Winning His Heart
by XanCrish
Summary: Ichigo is the young CEO of a leading conglomerate in Japan. Envied by so many, he leads a perfect life. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by a blue haired foreigner, Grimmjow? Grimmichi, Yaoi, slash.
1. Prologue: Save him!

**Title:** Winning His Heart (Working Title)  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
**Fanfic Author:** **xancrish**  
**Rating:** PG-13 (for now).  
**Pairing:** Ichigo/Grimmjow  
**Genre:** AU, Slash, Romance  
**Warnings:** A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
**Summary:** Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

The long arm of the analog clock ticked by and the short arm followed, slowly but steadily. With each hour passing, the shadows inside the large, airy room loomed over the occupant heavier and heavier. It was five, an hour after the promised time. Then, it was six and the sun was starting to hide behind the tall towers that could be seen through the floor-length window. Seven and lights that seemed like different colored fireflies decorated the darkening city; eight and a million heads could be seen swarming the roads, returning home from work; nine, ten, eleven – the mass thinned leaving behind them a white fog in the cold night. Twelve, one….two….everything was silent.

A sharp noise woke her up from the fitful sleep she had fallen into. It took her a moment to realize what had caused the noise, and a small thrill went through her body. She pushed herself up from the white lounge settee, where she had been waiting the entire evening and rushed towards the front door. Her heart beat louder than the ticking reminder of the late hour, and her breathe was labored, as if she had run a mile. Her sweat made the door knob slippery, and the lack of sleep made her a little disoriented, but she managed to open the door, her mind slowly registering what she was seeing on the other side.

Orihime covered her mouth, before a scream could escape her. She didn't dare utter a sound, scared that hearing her own voice might make the nightmare more real. She wondered whether she had known all along that something was off, and realized that yes, she had, but not to this extent.

An orange haired man stood there in the threshold, barely illuminated by the ceiling light. His arm was around an unfamiliar tall man, supporting his seemingly limp body. The former's eyes were barely open, glazed and without emotion, though his hands were outstretched as if screaming silently for help. The worst part was yet to come. Both the men were covered in red, from head to toe, their clothes ripped, body scared and bones in odd angles.

Orihime moved into motion feeling like she had been knocked over by some invisible force. She grabbed the limp man's other arm, heaving with all the energy she could muster and pulling him along inside the house. When she had settled him on the same settee she had been obliviously sleeping on, she rushed towards the other man, and held him upright when he tripped on his own legs. She couldn't really tell the extent of damage on his body, but she felt the pain the man felt, just by looking at his glazed brown eyes. She had no time to wonder what had happened to get him in this situation, or who his company was. For if she let her mind loose, she feared the horrendous conclusions she might come to, and panicking was not an option at the moment.

She guided the orange-haired man to bathroom and settled him on top a stool, and rested his head on the wall, who by that time had lost consciousness. With the light switched on, her eyes fell on the bloody gash on his forehead, and she winced, involuntarily. Her hand quivered as she reached out to push the rebellious bangs out of the way. She undressed him, hands working with practiced precision, and she discovered more and more of the cause for the man's pain. His right wrist was hanging limp suggesting a radius fracture; his torso, covered in severe lacerations, gashes in the abdomen and left thigh, and twisted left foot - physical attack, or impact. Whether or not he had a concussion could only be confirmed after she could clean and dress him enough to take him to the hospital.

She wetted a fluff cloth and moved to dab the head wound, when a strong arm grabbed her wrist. She jerked in surprise, but calmed a second later when her eyes fell the now wide-awake brown ones. The man coughed, removing his hand to cover his mouth, and a little blood dripped through in between his fingers. When she brought a hand to wipe the blood away, he once again rejected help. She didn't understand, so she just stared, standing froze, her mind slowing with the inability to do anything useful. As the man gazed back at her with his fiery eyes, Orihime remembered who exactly this man was to her. She felt as if she were waking up from a dream. Dark emotions seeped through her and her hands trembled as she brought them around the others shoulders, unbidden wetness dripping down her face.

Not an instant passed by and she was harshly pushed away with a strength that came as a surprise to her. The man sat hunched, his one good hand holding her shoulder away, looking at her with determined eyes. She wondered where he got it from - the energy to go on after all the injury he had taken, to which she wouldn't get the answer for a long time to come.

"No," he said, finally. His voice was a shadow of what it had once been, husky and broken. "No," he repeated, "G-go."

"Wh-what are you saying?" said Orihime, lips trembling with emotion, "Why don't you let me treat you?" She couldn't stand this standoffish act a minute longer. She hated being helpless.

"Grim-," he coughed again, and once again, Orihime stood helpless, hand outstretched but unable to do anything. "Grimmjow. That man. Help him. First." Each word was said with a pause in between them, indicated the effort it took to utter them.

"No," she shook her head, adamantly, "He can wait. I can't leave you like this." More tears dripped down her face. How could he ask something like that of her? How could she leave him, when her, her– when _he_ was suffering? "I will finish heal you quickly. Clean and dress the wound, call the ambulance and – "

"No!," he shouted, glaring at her in obvious outrage. "Help him!"

She wiped away the betraying tears, urgently.

"I will call Urahara Sensei. He will be able to treat him better than me. Now let me just see those wounds." She was pleading now.

"No. No. You," he voice sounded somehow stronger, and she discovered the stubbornness in them, "Don't call. No one. Else. To know. You. Help."

Orihime clenched her hands, fingers digging into her own flesh, painfully. She sensed that the man was not going to give in. For whatsoever reason, he wanted her and her alone to take care of the tall, blue haired-man who was presently sprawled over in her living room, and Orihime could do nothing but consent to it, if she were to the stubborn man at all.

"But, Ichigo-kun – " she made one last attempt.

"_Go_!"

She left abruptly, confusion and desperation swirling in her as she let the man she loved to suffer, while going on to help someone she didn't even know. Her eyes fell on the blue-haired, languid figure. _Grimmjow_, was it? She couldn't stop the feelings of contempt that spread through her.


	2. I ain't your bitch, Shinigami!

Title: Winning His Heart (Working Title)  
Disclaimer: I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
Fanfic Author: xancrish  
Rating: PG-13 (for now).  
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow  
Genre: AU, Slash, Romance  
Warnings:A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

Chapter 1:

Hanatarou Yamada was having a pleasant day, as usual. Even since his arrival at the Seireitei Corporation, at the recommendation of one of his college seniors, his life had taken a turn for good. He had three meals a day, a night out to his favorite bar every week and a two-day vacation to the beach in the city outskirts every month. More over, he had enough stock to pay his aged mother's medical bills. A day didn't go by without him feeling grateful for the kind woman who had picked him up from what had been a disastrous lifestyle and shown him a better path. Now, the head receptionist in the Seireitei Headquarters, surrounded by nice colleagues in a cozy environment, life was bright, sunny and simple for him. All he had to do was attend calls, direct them to the right people, fix appointments and follow through with the visitors, accordingly. In his forth months of work experience in the headquarters, Hanatarou had not once come across a single hitch in the system. Everything ran smoothly and according to schedule.

That is, until now.

A loud bang echoed through out the spacious lobby, and every head, including the janitor's, who had been cleaning one of the rare paintings that decorated the room, turned in the direction of the said noise. The dark mahogany door that leads to the outside lobby had been opened none too gently, and had hit the wall on the side. A tall man, with an unusual hair color stood in the middle of the entrance, his body heaving with each breathe he took. Silence fell on everyone. Was it because of surprise, or was it intimidation – it was not clear, but the silence was only broken by the noise emanating from the air conditioner, and the collective breathe of the people inside the lobby.

Each pair of eyes followed the towering figure of the teal haired foreigner, as he strode towards the reception desk. His strange blue eyes lit with something so sinister, that it was beyond their comprehension. Hanatarou, who had been silently praying, that the stranger would just vanish into thin air, like every other monster in his dreams, became wide-eyed; his breathe caught in his throat, body freezing in pure fear. For, not a second later, a classy looking knife was thrust in his direction, skillfully placed under his neck, the sharp tip brushing against the thin layer of his skin. What did people say about things being skin deep? Now he was going to test that theory first hand.

A middle-aged woman, who had been waiting for her eleven o'clock appointment, sitting on the cozy looking sofa, let out a small wail like sound. None of the others noticed her. Not a single person dared move.

"Where is he?" was uttered with much contempt in the stranger's voice. It did little to help the receptionist's mind function properly. "Where is that bastard?" the man demanded again, leaning over the helpless receptionist.

Hanatarou suddenly felt claustrophobic; the man was invading too much of his space and not in a good way. The knife tip was starting make his skin itch.

"Bring him out, bring him. Or I will kill you." The man looked around in a frenzied fashion, "I will kill every one of you." His tone suggested he very much meant it.

"W-who?," Hanatarou managed to stammer out. The alternative was a split throat; it was far from appealing to him.

That response seemed to only anger the man even more, because he grabbed Hanatarou's hair in a tight grip, pulled his head back and pressed the blade closer, slicing a thin layer of his skin. A pearl of red shone in the silver. "_Him_," hissed the man. He spoke as if it should obvious who that 'he' was and that the receptionist was risking his life by asking stupid questions. "Your fucking boss. Ku-ro-sa-ki-I-chi-go," each syllable was spelt with an unwarranted stress, and a harsh jab in the receptionist's ribs, "I want him here. Right now."

If this were a normal day, and the person standing before Hanatarou, a normal man, the receptionist would have laughed at his demand. Kurosaki Ichigo, the heart and soul of the Seireitei Inc. was one of the busiest men in the entire world. Not only did he own seven brand names across the country, each of them holding more than half of the market share, but he was also the owner of two multi-national companies – with one company based in California and the other in Germany.

When his father had died in a plane crash, at the age of twenty, the soul heir to the Seireitei Inc., Kurosaki had become the youngest, richest man in all of Japan. And that was only talking about his inheritance. The man himself had gone to expand the Seireitei from being the fourth largest conglomerate in the country to the second place. He was as much a hardworking man, as he was rich. He was known for his straight-forward, spontaneous, and righteous attitude. He never slacked, never let a single opportunity slip by, and more importantly, never wasted time. Appointments made with the CEO were rare and went through a lot of formalities and planning, before approval from higher authorities. The process took from a few weeks to several months.

But, ofcourse, this was not a normal day, and the blue haired foreigner was not your everyday businessman, or reporter, or even a lawyer. It took only half a second for Hanatarou to realize what was going to happen next. It was pretty obvious; he was going to die. After all the dead ends he had come past in his short life, he was going to die in the hands of a random psycho, on a pleasant morning, in his cozy office.

'What an irony' his mind was working on its own,' I need to thank Kuchiki-senpai. I wonder what she might think of me, passing away like this. She'd sure make some arrangements for my mother….I don't need to worry.'

He mustered a weak smile, and met the unstable eyes of his assaulter, "I'm sorry, but I cannot do that, Sir. Do you have an appointment? An I.D.?"

He was in for yet another turn of events when the knife slipped from his neck and the stranger moved away from him, only to clutch his own middle and let out a deep, resounding laughter. The man's entire body shook, and when he raised his head to look at the receptionist, his face was dominated by a maniacal grin. No one else found the situation funny.

"You got guts," he declared, still continuing to giggle madly, "Despite how much you look like a puny ass, you have something under that skin of yours. Ichigo knows how to choose his men well." His grin dropped, and it twisted into yet another ugly expression."Brave, yeah. But stupid, too. Very, very stupid. Just like him, huh? Did he teach you? Did he rub off on you?" His eyes gleamed, again and this time Hanatarou recognized the hidden truth behind them – lust, _lust for destruction_. "Wrong answer, kiddo."

And then, the knife was back in its place, this time positioned over his jugular. A small little jerk and his life was gone for good. 'Here it comes' thought Hanatarou.

"_You are going to die."_

Hanatarou closed his eyes. It wasn't really something he planned on. He had always thought he would die a brave man, and died while fighting for his life with every last breath left in him. But, theory and practice were two different things. So he was digging his nails into the desk before him, silently screaming, and already waiting for the pain to end. The knife traced his skin, pressure increasing against his skin. He was going to die.

Neither pain, nor death came.

Instead, a sudden thudding noise, followed by similar ones, rhythmic and familiar, pierced through the lethal atmosphere. The metal Hanatarou had felt a fraction of a second ago went flying out from the strangers hand and hit the wall across the room. Men covered in full black, holding enormous guns, all pointing towards one man stood scattered about the entire room. The woman, who had been screaming till now, had gone finally silent.

"I think not, Grimmjow," came a strong, confident voice from the direction of the elevator, that was strictly meant for high ranking officials.

Hanatarou sagged into his chair, and promptly fell unconscious.

Ichigo Kurosaki rapped his long fingers on the glass surface of the meeting table. He wasn't used to sitting put, and his body needed action of some sort or the other. Most might find the behavior as 'restlessness,' but actually, it was more of an 'impatience' to get something done. Currently, the little let out of energy was very much helping him. If it were not for the tapping, he would be across the table, swinging punches after another, breaking every bone on the cocky face in front of him. Instead, he was able to limit his frustration to just a glare. Although, that it in itself was making the two _Black Cats_, the highly skilled, top-notch guards of his company, who were standing guard beside the closed door, squirm in anticipation.

Crossing his arms, Ichigo shifted into a more comfortable position in his swirling chair.

He let out a measured breathed.

"You truly are the man of your reputation, aren't you? Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?"

The said man snorted uncaringly, leaned back on his chair and casually rested his legs on top of the glass table.

"You are one unthankful bastard."

That got the blue-haired man's attention. He dropped his legs and leaned forward. Leering dangerously, he said in a mocking voice, "Ohhhh…Now that you have saved me and stuff, should I bow down to you? Yeah? Pray your very existence, like you are my god or somethin'? Spread my legs for you like that slut of yours, maybe?" He laughed madly as if he had just cracked the funniest joke on earth.

Ichigo pinched the tip of is nose and counted one to ten.

"You assaulted and threatened my employee, Grimmjow. That was not very funny," said Ichigo, standing up and slowly walking around the table to the other man's side. He leaned down, his face directly above the others. Noting the growing displeasure on the man's face, he said, "If you were someone else, Grimmjow, your ass would've been handed over to you in a silver platter."

"Whatever," replied Grimmjow through clenched teeth, "Get away from me, motherfucker."

Satisfied with rousing some kind of serious response in the blue-haired man, Ichigo pulled a nearby chair, and sat himself in it. He didn't bother to honor the other's request.

"What are you doing here, Grimmjow? I thought we had agreement. One that said you wouldn't leave my apartment until _I _said otherwise."

This earned the orange-head a severe glare and a push. Grimmjow stood up, all pretense of calmness gone. He phased the room back and forth, very much looking like an angered panther, ready to strike its enemy at the smallest of provoking. The _Black Cat_'s eyes followed Grimmjow's every move. Though they had gotten strict orders from their boss, not to harm a single hair on the blue haired psycho's body, they were unimaginably wary of him. And if it came between protecting their boss and harming the crazy stranger, it was obvious which course they would choose.

"I ain't your fucking bitch, _Shinigami_," came the words, finally. Grimmjow stood in the middle of the room, his whole body shaking with uncontainable fury. The air cracked between the two and it was almost as if the foreigner's whole essence was finding ways to attack Ichigo."I don't have to put up with all your shit. I will do what I want, when I want. You can't hold me in your shackles."

The two guards, who were watching the on-goings with rapt attention, were truly impressed with the unfazed expression on their young CEO's face. This man was truly something. Barely out of his teenage years, he still exuded the characters of a wise, learned man. The outrageous display of anger was having little effect on him.

For the umpteenth time they couldn't help but wonder, just what kind of relationship these two had.

"You are not really answering my question, Grimmjow," said Ichigo, his tone calm and collected, but feeling anything but that on the inside. He didn't bother correcting the blue-haired man on using his 'nick name' for him. "Let me try this, again. What exactly are you doing here?"

To the spectator's surprise, the steam visibly left the tall man. He let out a huff and his expression took a less fearsome edge as he fell into one of the many swirling chairs, facing away from the CEO.

If anyone could have seen his face then, they would have been able to see the striking, handsome man behind the rough exterior. He was by no means ordinary in the 'looks' department. With hair that shone like they were fluorescent, clean cut face and a well toned body, he would have been a heart-breaker. Till then, his psychotic attitude more than compensated for it. But, now that for some unknown reason the craziness had disappeared, the foreigner resembled a super model sitting exhausted after a busy day's work.

The young CEO, who was now donning a worried expression, was beside the taller man in an instant. The two guards were more confused than ever.

"What is it, Grimmjow?"

"Nothing."

"Grimmjow."

The atmosphere was really weird. One of the guards shuffled uncomfortably, the other averted his eyes to the far off wall on the other side.

"She came. Your….you fiancée. She…I…I left", and something about that seemed to very much pain the man, because his face constricted in an uncharacteristic display of agony. He turned his face away from the other and spoke no more.

Ichigo, of course, understood everything.


	3. It's not what it looks like

Title: Winning His Heart (Working Title)  
Disclaimer: I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
Fanfic Author: xancrish  
Rating: PG-13 (for now).  
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow  
Genre: AU, Slash, Romance, Suspense, Angst  
Warnings: A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

Ishida Uryu was one of those people who maintained his cool all the time. There were a very few things in this world that unsettled him. He was not very proud to say that as the personal assistant of the famed, young CEO of the Seireitei Corp, ninety-nine percent of his problems originated form one source or rather one person – the very same CEO, Kurosaki Ichigo. According to Ishida, the orange-head was a burning beacon for problems. He sucked problems his way at such a speed that even the most powerful of vacuum cleaners would be defeated. Not that, Kurosaki could be relied on to clean anything. It was just the exact opposite.

Predictably enough, his opinion of the man had been confirmed for the thousandth time that morning, when a worried Inoue-san had called him. His friendship with Kurosaki's fiancée only served to cause even more friction in the already non-existent relationship he shared with his boss. It was a given that whoever listened to the blonde woman, when she was on one of her 'Ichigo-kun' bouts, would never be able to hold a straight face in front of the orange-head again. And it was more so in Ishida's case; because, even though he hated to admit it – even to himself – he had held a flaming torch for the now engaged woman for as long as he could remember. Hence, the sour feelings towards one Ichigo Kurosaki – that, and of course, the man's infuriatingly cocky personality.

The call from Inoue-san had not really been a surprise, though. He had been receiving calls on end frequently through out the last few months. Most of them were either the other discussing interior decoration – a hobby they both shared – or complaining about her life in general. The latter was becoming the more frequently visited topic in recent times. Whatever the case was, Ishida didn't care. He was just glad, he was of some use to the woman he loved.

But, today had been different; the blond woman's voice still ringed through Ishida's mind, and although in a way, everything was working in his favor, he couldn't help but feel a little bitter on Inoue's behalf.

"_I went to Ichigo's apartment."_

Silence.

"_That man was there. I think….I think…._"

A long pause .

"_I don't know what to think anymore, Ishida-kun"_

Ishida was smart enough to understand what she was getting at. She thought that that boneless excuse of a fiancé of hers was cheating on her. Although, Ishida highly doubted Kurosaki was capable of doing something so cruel to the blonde, or even had the guts for that matter, he had to admit that it was pretty suspicious. What could have happened for a woman, who had had no qualms, not even a small fight with her boyfriend, for as long as he could remember to suddenly suspect infidelity? Why would she let her imagination run so wild as to think that her long-time lover had suddenly taken a one-eighty degree turn on his sexuality? Ishida doubted the suspicions could be without base, and with each step he took towards the orange-head's office, he could feeling something strange nag the back of his mind.

When the little 'incident' in the lobby occurred, Soi Fon, the commander-in-chief of the Black Cats, had been away on a mission. By the time she returned the problem had already been dealt with. When she heard about what had happened, her curiosity had been easily piqued and she went over to the recording room to personally see the records herself. When she saw the blue-hair and crazy grin, she froze and sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes narrowing to slits, recognition and dread written all over them.

Not a minute later her hand went to her cell phone, dialing the number of one violet haired cat-woman.

When it had become clear that Grimmjow was not going to say anything more than what he had already said, Ichigo made some calls and arranged for a private car. Bringing the other to his office had been a mistake. Too many people could I.D. him, and too many people who would be more than willing to put a knife through the blue-haired man's guts. In his anxiety to get Grimmjow away from the epicenter of a scene, and the keen eyes of the security cams, Ichigo had hastily brought him here, to his office, accompanied only by two of his most trusted guards, who were safely unaware of Grimmjow's notorious background.

He had dismissed the two guards after making the calls. It was not like he had any use for them against Grimmjow anyway. At least, now, they could have the privacy they needed.

"Where are you taking me this time?", asked a petulant tone, awakening Ichigo from his thoughts.

Ichigo glanced at the other, who had been sitting in the same spot for the last half an hour, glum and angry, bristling at any attempt Ichigo made at nearing him, acting like a cat on a rainy day. Even now, the blue haired was looking at him with such distaste that one had to wonder if Ichigo was a human being at all.

The orange haired man sighed.

"I can't take you back to the apartment. You know that. It's getting too suspicious."

"So?" grinded out Grimmjow, at last getting up from his spot to send Ichigo a nasty glare, " You will just ship me to wherever you want, ask me to stay put and expect me to behave mum? What am I? Your goddamn puppet?"

"Grimmjow," said Ichigo, trying hard to keep the exasperation out of his voice, "You know that's not how I feel about you. I need to keep you safe –"

"'Keep me safe' my ass. You don't give a fuck what happens to me."

Calm as he was, there was only so far Ichigo could hold on to his temper and the other had never refrained from testing those limits, now and then.

"Really, now. Haven't we already had this conversation for what – a hundred times?" asked Ichigo, crossing his arms tightly so he wouldn't do anything that he would regret later. But his efforts were steadily going down the drain, because the other was paying no heed to what he was saying.

Grimmjow sauntered near Ichigo, the maniacal look back on his eyes, the one which comprehended no reason. "You know, it's not like I lost my limbs or anything – just a minor injury. I could still take you on anytime," the taller man pushed Ichigo by the shoulder with a strength that made the other almost loose his balance, his voice steadily rising, and glared at him when he said, "So don't look down on me!"

"Yeah? Is that right?" retorted Ichigo, his temper flaring, "You didn't seem that interested in fighting when I bet your sorry ass, the other day. If I remember correctly, you were more interested in the ground beneath your feet!"

"You've said it!"

Grimmjow shot forward, aiming for Ichigo's jaws, but the other already saw the infamous punch coming and ducked from harm's way. In one swift motion, the shorter man twisted the blue-haired man's right arm behind him, bending him forward and holding him in a vise-like grip. But the other didn't stay put. He growled, harshly elbowed Ichigo on his side, and landed a powerful kick to the other's shin, momentarily gaining a release from the orange-head. Not waiting a second, he turned and swung his hand into the shorter man's gut.

But all this did little to damage Ichigo's body, who didn't hesitate to retaliate by landing a lower kick on the other's knees, making the taller man to buck and loose his balance.

"_Stop it_, Grimmjow"

"I haven't lost yet, you bastard!"

A punch flew to Ichigo's face, and he felt a warm something trickle down his chin, but instead of coming back with a few moves of his own, he straddled the other down, hands holding down the other's arms, and knees arresting his long legs in place.

"You have eighteen fucking stitches on your body! Stay the fuck down!"

Grimmjow, as expected took that as a personal insult and started resisting, moving restlessly again the orange-head's hold. It took a while for him to realize that Ichigo was not going to let go, unless he calmed down.

Fighting had not been Ichigo's intention at all. Far from that, he had been wary of even touching the other. Not that he thought Grimmjow as being anything close to fragile. But he knew exactly how deep the injury ran. It was not apparent when one looked at him, but even after four months of treatment, Grimmjow had made little progress. The insensitive guy had stitches and twisted bones all over the place, still-healing internal organs and more than his needed share of scars. Ichigo simply did not believe he could land one proper punch to the other's stomach and expect him to stay conscious.

"Why do I have to listen to everything you say?" asked Grimmjow, his voice going hollow and strangely emotionless, "Why can't _she _move out of your life? Why do I have to be the one?" His blue eyes were cast downward, and Ichigo hated how he looked. He looked _so_…so defeated.

"Why does it have to be this way?"

Ichigo wished he had the answers for those questions; he wished he didn't ever have to see that haunting look on Grimmjow's face. But wishing and believing them to be possible is not the same; he understood that.

He leaned down and rested his head against Grimmjow's, their noses almost touching. Somewhere deep inside him, he was happy; that even after all that he had put the other through, he was not pushing him away, glad that he was still was wanted.

"I'm sorry, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow's face turned sour, and for a second it seemed like he might cry. Then, he shook his head as if something bad was clinging to it and scowled viciously.

"I don't need your fucking sorry, Shinigami." The fire was back on his face.

'Huh, what else can I expect?' thought Ichigo, and couldn't help but laugh a little. The day this bastard willing backed out of a fight, even a verbal one, that day the earth would start spinning around Jupiter.

"Stop calling me that," chided the orange-head, stilling chuckling.

"What are you laughing at me for, dick head?," the taller man's right hand flew towards Ichigo's face, but the other was fast to react, and the blue-haired man was back under Ichigo's tight grip.

"Nothing," answered Ichigo, a fond smile on his face.

"_Che_." Grimmjow looked away, a tell-tale flush dominating his pale face.

Regrettably, that's how Ishida found them.

The two Black Cats standing guard to the CEO's office were behaving unimaginably hardheaded. It took him around five minutes to convince them that he was one of those few people who were allowed to barge into the private life of Kurosaki. He soon found out the reason for their hesitation and he wasn't very pleased with it.

So, Orihime had been right in her assumptions, after all.

He saw red, and in the next instant he had grabbed on to the back of the orange head's shirt, pulled him from the blue-haired man, whom he assumed to be "the man", and landed a straight punch to the cheating bastards face. Physical combats were not really his thing, so he was sure no one would call the punch effective, but it did covey the feelings he wanted to send the other, as clear as a day.

He grabbed the decoration vase that had been idly standing on the CEO's desk and flung it in the orange-head's direction. Only, it didn't reach the person he had wanted to attack. The loud crashing sound of the vase disguised that oncoming danger and in the next instant, Ishida felt something hit his waist and was thrown sideways, flying a good five feet and falling on sideways after hitting the wall.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez stood crouched in front of Ichigo Kurosaki, his sharp canines full visible has he grounded his teeth in a mad leer. His face was contorted in fury and a dangerous growl erupted from within him. He was poised to attack in a seconds noticed.

'No. Not attack,' Ishida corrected himself, 'To _Kill_.'

What the hell has Kurosaki landed himself in this time?

Quickly reconsidering his situation, Ishida too deep breathes. Getting blindly angry would not help in anyway. He has to bring back his calm. His calm –

"What the hell, Kurosaki?" yelled Ishida, punching the ground to release the frustration he felt.

The damned orange head had the nerve to look ashamed.

"It – it's not how it looks," came a weak reply.

Ishida stood up and frantically looked for something sharp to throw at orange head. Grimmjow letting one more growl, made as if to put him back on the ground. But to Ishida's surprise and annoyance, Kurosaki place a steady hand on the taller man's shoulder, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. The other cringed under the touch as if hit by a spell and stayed down. Watching them, it struck Ishida then, that this might not be your typical infidelity – a man getting bored of his lover and taking up playing-around and experimenting as his new hobby. His eyes fell on the minute, dark trail on the CEO's chin, that he had not bothered noting before. It didn't look like dirt. And Ishida could make a guess has to who had bloodied the orange-head's face.

The situation seemed to be more messed up than he had assumed.

"It ain't none of his business," gritted out Grimmjow, ignoring Ishida altogether.

"Oh, it damn well is, you asshole."

But before things could progress any further, the guards chose that time to barge in. Not surprisingly, the restrained Ishida. He was truly stranded, this time around. They had put him down, face pressed to the ground, and the heavier guard straddling his back.

"There's no need to manhandle him!" Ishida heard Kurosaki shout. Apparently, he still had some chivalry left in him. For what ends it was useful, Ishida didn't understand. He had proved to be nothing but a cheating son of a bitch.

"Let me tear him apart!" That was Mr. Crazy Ass-hat alright.

"Cut-it out, Grimmjow."

Hearing that bastard's name coming from Kurosaki's mouth, made Ishida feel sick to his stomach. But he couldn't really do anything about it and the white marbles of the office room was soon making Ishida cold.

There was a sound of footsteps, and Ishida felt the weight lift off of him. He roughly pushed himself up, and let some lewd expletives, that he usually wouldn't be found dead using. His eyes then fell on an unusual combination of people occupying the whole of the office's entrance.

There stood, Rukia Kuchiki, one of the serving directors of the Seireitei, Kisuke Urahara, the Chairman of the Seireitei R&D and lastly, a woman, the color of honey, and violet hair, whom Ishida could not identify in the slightest.

All of their gazes were fixed on one single person; it was not Ichigo Kurosaki.

"Excuse me, Kurosaki-kun," said Urahara, his eyes narrowing under the infamous sandal hat, "But, just what in the world is one of elites of the Las Noches doing here?"


	4. He's my bodyguard

Title: Winning His Heart (Working Title)  
Disclaimer: I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
Fanfic Author: **xancrish**  
Rating: PG-13 (for now).  
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow  
Genre: AU, Slash, Romance, Suspense, Angst  
Warnings: A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

The park was unusually quiet.

The tiny heads that had been swarming around, children causing a huge racket, dragging their tired moms along, playing with each other, laughter and joy spilling from them like an endlessly streaming waterfall were long gone, leaving behind them still standing swings, silent trees and an empty playground. It was becoming dark and the bright pictures of jokers and cartoon characters that welcomed the children to the park, did nothing to reduce the haunted look the park gave off. Ironically enough, people didn't like venturing inside the park once it started getting dark and kids were strictly forbidden from entering the place.

Ichigo dug his head deeper into his hitched legs, trying his best to ignore the growing sound of the crickets. The chill of the night was getting to him, slowly creeping upon him like a cold blanket. He didn't remember being this scared in his entire life. He hated how the trees seemed to be leaning towards him, their long creepy hands trying to grab him. He shivered at how several small yellow eyes were looking at him from every direction and desperately wished mommy would wake him up soon and tell him it's just a nightmare. He tried his best to be quiet as he muffled his sobs into cold hands.

_Where are you mommy?_

There was a sharp cracking sound and Ichigo jerked. He hit the iron metal on the underside of the park's slide, which had been serving as temporary roof for him. The young kid stifled a moan as more tears ran down his messy cheeks.

_It's definitely a monster_, the young orange-haired boy thought.

There were more noises: crumpling sounds like leaves being crushed by invisible footsteps, a metallic sound that was the swing swinging on its own, and a whistling sound that was the cold winter night's wind playing an eerie lullaby. There were footsteps, then – soft and light, like something weightless and light was walking the grounds and Ichigo could already see the almost floating form of a female ghost in his head.

_Mommy!_

Something cold touched his shoulder and Ichigo shot forward, falling face first onto the cement floor He scrapped at the ground, desperately trying to crawl forward and escape from the clutches of the monster that had materialized behind him.

"Stop doing that. You gonna loose your nails or something," came a voice, sounding very-much human and very-much alive.

Ichigo gasped, a hot breath leaving him. He didn't remember holding his breath. Trying not to scream, he turned his blurry eyes on the figure behind him.

It was a boy, a boy with strange hair. He was taller than Ichigo by a foot, and seemed to be older than him by two or three years. He had eyes that were cat-like, glowing in the dark and they were looking down at him with obvious annoyance in them. Ichigo winced in pain as the other kicked him in the chest when it seemed like the orange-head was going to take his time getting up.

"Aren't you done crying like a girl?", sneered the blue-haired boy, "Get up!"

Ichigo didn't think hesitating would be a good idea and got up instantly, although a little unsteadily. The other boy's expression grew more nettled as he watched Ichigo fight hard to control his emotions. The taller boy removed the thick jacket he wore and thrust it towards the younger boy.

"Here," said the blue-head, his voice still sounding rude, "Stop crying."

Ichigo looked up at the teal eyes and saw something behind the hostile expression on the surface. He sniffed a little and dried his face with closed fists.

"Where is mommy?"asked Ichigo, trying to look polite and confident, just like he had seen dad do when he was meeting with people from work .

Ichigo knew the older boy had a scary expression, but somehow he also knew that the boy was not dangerous. He was definitely better than the female ghost that haunted this park. So, he snuggled inside the borrowed jacket and looked expectantly at the other.

The blue haired boys' face twisted in a funny way and a loud, boisterous laughter erupted from him.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Ichigo, a little annoyed.

It took a whole minute for the other to calm down enough to answer.

"My mom's dead. How am I supposed to know where your mom's at, kiddo?" replied the other, a disturbingly gleeful expression on his face.

Ichigo felt a little uncomfortable at the word "dead". Didn't dad say that it meant one will go to sleep for a long time? If that was true shouldn't the strange boy miss his mommy? But those thoughts were pushed away when the reality of the situation hit him harder than ever – _he had no way of finding were mommy was!_

He grabbed the other's shoulder, panic overtaking his senses, "Please help me find mommy! Please find her!"

The other boy looked at him strangely, as if deciding on something important. Then, he smirked and said, "So you are lost, huh. And you want my help." The blue-head's piercing eyes settled on Ichigo anxious ones and he smiled slyly, "But what would I get in return?"

"I will do anything! Anything you ask!" promised Ichigo, bowing a little in a show of gratitude and fervor.

"Hmm," said the taller boy, not looking entirely pleased, "But my Uncle gets me everything I want. Games, food, clothes – everything. He even bought me a whole amusement park because I was bored last Saturday. I don't think I'll want anything you have to offer." He shook his head as if it were a shame that Ichigo was of no use to him.

"But, but," Ichigo's lips threatened to tremble. He thought hard and quick. He didn't think he could find mommy with out someone's help and the blue-head was all he had then. He couldn't let the other just pass by. Now what could he give? _Think, _Ichigo told himself, _think…..What did mom say to dad, when dad was worried she wouldn't like his Christmas present for her? _He had overheard them talking in the kitchen. It had only been a week since then, and he knew it was something important - something about 'staying', something about 'forever'.

"I will stay by your side forever," said Ichigo, taking the other's hand into his in a strong grip, "My mom's said that is the best gift you could give to your most important person. I will make you my important person."

The other's boys facials changed so rapidly that Ichigo could help but blink in wonder. The taller boy was donning a flustered look on his face and seemed to be having a hard time taking in what Ichigo had proposed.

"Don't think I don't have friends, you little brat!" said the taller boy, harshly pulling out of Ichigo's grip, "I have many of 'em! Don't look down on me!"

Ichigo didn't get how he could look down on a person taller than him but didn't ask the question aloud incase the other decided to beat him up. He didn't say anything and tried to convey his desperation to find mom with his eyes alone. The other seemed to understand Ichigo's plea, because the blue-head let out a loud huff and took back Ichigo's hands. A slim finger slid into Ichigo's little finger and he found himself shaking it with the strange kid.

"_Fine_," said the other, sounding grumpy for some reason, "I don't like your attitude, but a promise is a promise. You have to hold up to it no matter what. Understood?"

"Okay!" said Ichigo, an involuntary smile blooming in his face, the dark and lost feelings long forgotten. Even the cold, lonely night didn't seem frightening anymore – the trees were merely beckoning him to come under their warm shelter, the crickets playing an odd sounding music. He didn't know how it was possible, but having this strange boy on his side was putting him at ease.

"I'm Kurosaki Ichigo! Nice to meet you!"

"Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

Ichigo's smile brightened and turned more hopeful. "Let's go find mommy, together!"

"He's my bodyguard."

It raised a variety of response from the audience, not unlike what Ichigo had expected.

Urahara coughed loudly, Rukia's brows furrowed in utter confusion and Yorouichi let out a surprised whistle. Ishida righted his glasses and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Grimmjow looked like he was going turn around and take a swing at the young CEO. The guards who had been trying to calm the situation, but afraid they would go out of line by defying higher authority fell into a tense silence looking back and forth between the two men in the spotlight.

"Body guard, you say?" asked Urahara in a light sing-song voice. He didn't say anything more, but the look on his face told a tall tale of what he thought. Ichigo didn't dare look him in the eye; he didn't want to see the betrayal written on them.

"Kurosaki, you damn cheater, you know that doesn't make sense at all!" That was Ishida, cracking again. "You are more capable than most pro-martial artist in the entire country and even if that were the case it didn't seem like it was the 'body guard' role he was playing a few seconds ago." Ishida had never had any qualms of saying whatever he thought in his mind, and Ichigo had always admired that about him. But right now? – Not so much.

"None of your business, you four-eyed idiot!" Grimmjow seethed, directing a heated glare at the brunet man.

"Ishida-san," said Yoruichi, surveying the situation slowly, "Didn't Ichigo-kun say that this guy was his bodyguard?"

Ishida sent a questioning look in her direction, as if to say, 'yeah, so?'.

"Then, I think he knows what he's talking about," said the cat-like woman. "If he feels like he needs a bodyguard, or even a prostitute, that's his own damn business. But then," She exchanged a look with Urahara, who by now seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion "he is responsible as the CEO of this company _and _as the head representative of the _Shinigami_'s. So, the more appropriate question here would be, not 'why do you need a body guard', but, 'why is _he_ the body guard'. "

"Watch your tongue, woman!" Grimmjow made as if to grab Yorouichi, but Ichigo promptly intervened.

"Don't make things worse than they already are, Grimmjow."

"Ichigo-kun is right, Jaegerjaquez-san. You are in enemy territory after all. I'd watch my back if I were you." Urahara's pleasant tone did not hide the threat the words held. It was definitely a warning for the blue-head that if he made one wrong move he was as good as dead.

Ichigo sensed that the threat only served to infuriate Grimmjow even more, so he cuffed the other's wrist with his hand and dragged him back to stand by his side, mentally willing the other to start using his head once again.

"Shinigami?" Ishida raised the question no one else seemed to be bothered with. "What's a Shinigami?"

Urahara looked at Ishida like he had just noticed the lean brunet for the first time. He smiled, but his eyes held a sad look to them, "Wrong question, again, Ishida-san. I can't tell you about the Shinigami, if you don't know about the Hollows first."

Ichigo flinched visibly.

"Urahara-san, don't you think it's unadvisable to–"

"I really don't need to hear from you what is right and what is wrong, Ichigo-kun."

Ichigo felt like he had just been slapped. Grimmjow jerked in his grip, but the orange-head held him back, firmly.

Urahara sat down on one of the swirling chairs around the meeting table and gestured others to do the same. The guard were dismissed and they returned to their positions, albeit sheepishly. Ichigo was about to do as he was told when Yorouichi walked to him and slung a hand around his shoulder. Grimmjow scowled at her.

Yorouichi leaned and said, "Don't take it too personally, kiddo." She ruffled Ichigo's defiant hair, "He's just flustered a little. We both are. What with you running around with naughty kitties like that?"

"You_ bitch– _"

"Let's hurry up and get this over with, Ichigo," Rukia spoke for the first time, cutting of the blue-head. Although she sounded her usual self, she wouldn't look at Ichigo when she spoke to him, "Urahara-san will blow the roof off otherwise."

"On the outside they are the well-groomed, glitzy, high class workers of the Las Noches Corporation, carefully selected by the CEO himself, put through intense training and very much experienced in the business world, and on the under side, they are a group of soulless, merciless thugs constituting a well-planed crime-organization, going by the nick name 'Hollows'. They are the lords of the underworld – human trafficking, organ theft, drugs, scandals, drugs and of course, murder – there is not a single type of crime they have not planted their roots in. Each of their 'job' is thoroughly planned and carried out with such precision that their very existence had never once showed up in papers. The police and intelligence agency have never been able to trace the incidents cause by them back to Las Noches. Then, there are ten _Espadas_, ranked above the Hollows leading different sections of crime. They give the orders, and the hollows carry out the plans. But ultimately, everyone and everything in Las Noches revolves around one man – the bane of existence, Aizen Sosuke."

Urahara took a pause and sipped his tea that had been served only moments ago. Everyone followed suit, except Grimmjow and Ishida. The tall man simply didn't care, and Ishida was simply impatient. He was on the edge of his seat, looking ready to charge at someone if he didn't get the story cleared up then and there. Thankfully, Urahara continued in his explanation.

"That's were we come in.- the _Shinigami_. We do what the police and the anti-crime organizations are supposed to do. We hunt, we capture, we extract information and we hunt again. Our main objective is to stop the crimes committed by Hollows before they happen, but that is not always possible. In cases were the damage has already been done, we neutralize the situation as much as possible. The _Shinigami'_s front was started by Kurosaki Isshin, along with few of his well-trusted friends and associates. He wanted the front to act in secrecy, mirroring the way the Hollows fought. So, while to the apparent world the Seireitei Corporation and Las Noches Corporation have been rivaling for market share and customer loyalty, in reality they have been fighting an invisible war for almost two decades. And, with the death of our last leader, Kurosaki Isshin, his son, Ichigo became the next leader besides inheriting the Seireitei Corporation."

Urahara heaved a sigh and it seemed like he was done with the narration. Though, Yoruichi picked up where he left before anyone could utter a word.

"But you see, Ichigo doesn't hold absolute authority over anyone. Not as the leader of the _Shinigami_'s anyway. Isshin and the other successors made it so that no power would be concentrated in a single place. They didn't want another Aizen running around; one is already too much to handle. Therefore, a chamber of forty-six members from all over the country who decide on major issues and pass judgments, and thirteen high-authorities or 'captains' who hold veto powers over the same decisions were created. So, you know, like, Ichigo's head won't grow bigger than it already is. Cool, yeah?"

Ishida looked at her dubiously, trying to gauge the seriousness behind her smile and failed miserably. What he had heard was sending his mind reeling in twenty different directions. Secret organization? Assassinators? It felt as if he had just fallen inside a rabbit hole and woken up in another world. But, nevertheless, something struck him odd, and he couldn't help but raise his thoughts.

"Um," he cleared his throat, feeling a little self-conscious, and turned to face the oldest man in company, "Urahara-san, you said no one even knew that something like the er – 'Hollows' existed. So, how come you people seem to know about them? And if you knew about them why didn't you just take matters to the officials? Wouldn't it be easier to let the police handle things?"

Yorouichi let out a sharp bark of laughter, and patted Ishida on his back, which made him topple onto the table top. Grimmjow growled, irritated at her obvious amusement, and a look was passed between Ichigo and Rukia. Urahara took his time replying Ishida, sipping his tea deliberately.

"That would make things easier? Is that what you think?" said Urahara, raising an eyebrow, "The Shinigami Front doesn't work against the Police Force, Ishida-san. We simply gave up on them. In the beginning, Isshin and I and couple of others who were there when the Front was founded, relied our information onto the officials. Do you know where that lead to?"

No one replied.

"I was convicted for conducting illegal experiments and trafficking human body parts."

Grimmjow looked surprised at that, and his blue eyes, which till then, had been glaring at Yoruichi, widened at the information that was news to him.

"So you are not really the Mr. Good-little-shoes I thought you to be?" asked the blue-head and grinned like he had just discovered what his Christmas present was, "You damn bastard. I'm impressed."

"You obstinate, idiot," hissed Rukia, before Ichigo could snap at Grimmjow to keep quiet, "Don't you address Urahara-san like that. Isn't it obvious he was falsely accused? How stupid can you get?"

Ichigo and Ishida looked at each other, sharing a momentary unison in the wariness they felt towards Rukia's fiery attitude.

"Figures," sniggered Grimmjow, and Ichigo purposely stomped on his foot. The blue head flipped a finger at the other, but kept quiet otherwise.

"As for your other question," continued Urahara, completely ignoring the little interruption, "We only know that Las Noches exists because we are the –"

"Victims," provided Ishida, catching up quickly.

"Yes," said Urahara, his eyes settling on the young CEO, an unreadable expression in them, "That is exactly the case. I was falsely accused, got thrown into prison, and Yoruichi-san got a shooting on-sight order on her head for being my 'accomplices' and Ichigo – Kurosaki-kun lost his entire family."

The orange-head froze, his eyes looking at the far wall as everybody turned their gazes on him. He didn't open his mouth, didn't refute, didn't acknowledge – just sat there, as if the conversation was about someone else.

"And do you know what the funniest part is, Ishida-san?" asked Urahara, his voice grave and dry, "Kurosaki-kun seems to think it is the 'right thing' to do – to fraternize with _him,_" a lean finger pointed right at Grimmjow, "the nephew of the one person who is the source of all our misery: Aizen Sosuke."

A/N: I tried not use any mature words while portraying little Ichigo. It was harder than I'd thought it would be. :D

Comments are love! Please review. :DD


	5. Well, that was intense

Isane loved hanging out at the café.

It was a good change from the monotonous, plain looking wards the Seireitei Hospital held. Doctors in long white robes, their expressionless eyes on their daily reports, milling about the corridors like programmed robots. But, that was only one of the scenarios. The other kind, which was not apparent to the oblivious eyes, was where top specialists of the country ran through the hallways, chasing their bloodied victims, shouting on top of their panic-stricken voice, in permanent state of emergency. Isane was constantly put in both the situations – to and fro, to and fro. Like waves that drew back, only to hit the shore, growing stronger and hasher each and every time.

Time offs were rare, and one had to have lady luck smiling right down your shoulder to be able to come down to the café and relax for a while. It had been a long time since Isane had gotten off work and visited the bustling place. The place was crowded as always, naturally, being in the centre of the Seireitei Campus. People from all over the corporation – doctors, lawyers, businessmen, executives, clerks, sub-staff – the list went on and on – had gathered with their colleagues and friends, chatting, loosening up and having fun.

Isane sat away from the entrance, her eyes wandering about the room ideally. Unfortunately none of her colleagues had been able to get away from work. So she had been sitting alone, waiting for the past fifteen minutes for a familiar face to turn up.

Right then, a group of young men in finely tailored suits came through the glass doors. Despite what their clothes suggested, they made a noisy entrance, rudely pointed fingers at a woman in the corner and howled with laughter at something only they seemed to understand. Said woman got off the table, and rushed past the gang, a hand covering her flushed face. The men laughed some more.

This did not really perk Isane's interest. But what happened next did.

A handsome man with stylish silver hair approached the group. No one knew where he came from, but all of a sudden he was just _there_. His face was dominated by a very cheerful expression not quite tallying with the atmosphere, and he smiled at the trouble-makers, who by now had drawn the majority of the café's attention. The silver haired man leaned his head towards the trouble-makers, and with the the smile still on his face spoke a few words that reached nobody's ears but the one's it was intended to. The gang started looking troubled, their faces a mix of fear and loathe. It didn't take them long to break and leave the café.

The mysterious man meanwhile shrugged and found a place to sit.

Isane let out a low whistle. She couldn't help but admire the stranger. He had come to the rescue of a helpless woman whom he did not even know. _If only all men were like him_, she sighed as she observed the man a little more.

The silver haired stranger was waiting for someone. That much was clear. His body was stiff, alert, clearly showing the anticipation he felt, but the smile still hadn't left his face. Isane thought it made him look like a fox, a little cunning, a little cute. He'd probably be really gentle to his gir– but before her imagination could run any longer than that, a tall blonde entered Isane's field of vision and sat directly opposite to Mr. Mystery.

_Matsumoto-san?, _wondered Isane, looking at the busty blonde who exuded 'sex' like it was a perfume she wore on her sleeve, _Is that her boyfriend? _

No, that couldn't be possible. Matsumoto Rangiku was one of Isane's close friends and she was not exactly the closet type. She was the exact opposite. She was famous for parading everything from her brand-new socks to her last Christmas gift and if she had a boyfriend, she would have mentioned it at least a hundred times.

The more Isane saw, the more curious she got. The way the couple talked – comfortable and relaxed – it was not their first time. Someone from work? Nope, negative. The atmosphere was too homely for that. Brother? Not that she knew of. Unless, one counted Histugaya Toshiro, the boy-genius of Seireitei, who was more like a son to the blonde woman than a brother. Then, who?

Rangiku had a lot to explaining to do coming girl's night.

Ichigo sighed and opened the car door. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the tall teal-head lean against a near wall. The basement was empty except for them; he had asked Mizuro and Keigo – his two guards to keep it that way. Since he liked driving, he wouldn't let anyone else get his BMW for him and especially, since, the drive was going to be a private one.

The basement was noticeably dim even with all the lights on, and Ichigo got the feeling of oppression, he felt every time he came here. Maybe, it had to do with knowing that he was standing under a hundred storey building, along with the weight of roughly thousand humans.

"_That_ went well," came a mocking voice.

The blue-head was sulking and hunching, a typical embodiment of annoyance. Ichigo couldn't start to wonder what he was annoyed about, anymore. He himself was not in a much better mood.

Ichigo slammed the door shut, closed his eyes and copied the other as he leaned against the car door.

"I did warn you to not show your head around here. What did you expect?" he said, his voice measured and controlled. He didn't want to start a fight about anytime soon.

"Huh?" Grimmjow's voice was much nearer, then, "So, they can just walk all over me and treat me like a piece of shit?" Ichigo could feel the other's presence beside him even without looking. Like always, the air between them cackled sending an odd feeling down the orange head's spine.

"This might be news to you, Grim," said Ichigo, opening his eyes to pear at lightening blue ones that were seething with fury and something else, "But you are not exactly a 'nice person'."

"Bastard," spat-out Grimmjow, fisting Ichigo's collar and bringing their faces dangerously close.

"Gosh, look at you," mocked Ichigo, a smirk forming in his lips. He grabbed the other by his elbow and pulled him even closer, his chocolate brown eyes boring into the other's, noting the undisguised fire that burned in them. "Getting all worked up, are we?"

"And who's fault is that?" grunted Grimmjow, his breathe hitching.

Ichigo smiled, more than a little satisfied at having wrought the desired feelings from the taller man. He tackled the other and within the blink of an eye, had him against the car. With not much grace, he crushed his lips against Grimmjow's softer ones. They were wet; Ichigo could imagine the blue-head licking his lips in anticipation and couldn't help but moan a little at the picture in his head. And Grimmjow's intoxicating smell was not helping either; the more of it Ichigo inhaled, the more rampant he got.

The blue-head was in no better position. A growl rose from Grimmjow as he fought back with his lips a loosing battle. He was steadily loosening under the orange-head's ministration, and his moans grew louder and clearer with it. Ichigo took great pleasure at noticing both. Ichigo knew the other man hated to admit he was enjoying these intimacies as much as he was, and it only made him even more determined to make the other give in.

It was a familiar dance for both of them, and when Ichigo pushed his tongue against the other's lips, there wasn't even a pause. Sparks must have been flying off of them, because Ichigo could feel his entire being tingle with a strange sensation. His loins were on fire and his pants tight against them – a great discomfort. But his mind eased when he pressed forward and found some friction. Grimmjow thankfully was equal in his urgency, and they moved together, crazed and hungry for pleasure. Ichigo lost all his cool when the other bit his tongue in a teasing gesture, and pushed his knees in between the taller man's legs and pried them apart.

Grimmjow shudder and went almost limp in his hands, but Ichigo didn't slow down. He released the taller man's neck and pressed his hand against his cock. Even through the thick denim, the warm flesh yielded to him, and Ichigo chuckled unashamedly when it gave a prominent jerk between his hands. A clearly embarrassed Grimmjow bit his lower lip and Ichigo growled when his eyes fell on the beautiful blush that darkened the other's cheeks.

Breaking away from the kiss, he sought for the taller man's neck and in an act of raw savagery sunk his teeth into it. Red flowers bloomed on the unblemished skin, and the Grimmjow's body bucked under Ichigo. The shorter man caught him and pushed him against the car's hood.

"You are so–"

"Don't say it," breathed Grimmjow, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

"–_beautiful."_

Not really caring that they were in public, the orange-head started to open the other's flying, his hands cupped to massage the taller man's cock.

Or at least, that was what he intended.

Someone coughed deliberately, and the sound echoed through out empty basement. Both men froze, Ichigo's fingers still on the other's fly. Their heads turned in the direction of the noise, eyes falling on a tall red haired man.

"Rukia was damn right when she said you both couldn't be trusted to have one decent adult conversation. Just didn't realize that it was this bad," smirked the man, looking unabashed and comfortable in his skin. "That was _intense_."

The intruder sprouted tattoos all over the place – his hands, even his eyebrows and forehead. His body language was playful, but his eyes told a different story. He was trying to convey to the orange-head something; something that Ichigo understood right away.

"Renji," said Ichigo, taken aback at the others willfulness for taking things in a stride. He pushed himself away from Grimmjow, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, embarrassedly. "You –you are okay with us?"

He didn't get why that was the first question that popped in his mind. He had many others besides it, but somehow he knew he was longing for a familiar face to support him in his little tryst – even if the idea was little twisted.

Grimmjow shuffled beside him, looking back and forth the both of them, his earlier submissiveness gone to be replaced by his usual self; in other words, he was damn pissed at the intruder. His eyes finally settled on the red-head, glaring at the over-friendliness he was emitting towards Ichigo.

"Of course, man," said Renji, patting the orange head's back in loud thumps, "Just because you suddenly turned gay for an enemy and plan on calling quits with your long-time girlfriend, doesn't mean we are on the opposite sides, now." Renji sent a dubious glance in Grimmjow's direction, "Even if it _is _Jaegerjaquez we are talking about. I know you wouldn't get into something like this, if you didn't trust him. And I trust you. So all's well, I guess," grinned Renji. "And cheating? I would be the world's biggest hypocrite if I got mad at you for that."

Renji had been infamous for his cheating in the college days. Ichigo had been close friends with a few of his victims. One such victim who still held a grudge against Renji for his betrayal was the current assistant director of the Human Resources Department, Hisagi Shuuhei. It was a relief for many that Renji had stopped his playing around and settled with just one person; the said person being one possessive, Kuchiki Byakuya, who had no intention of giving up the red head to anyone else.

Not sure he wanted to discuss the degree of acceptable infidelity with his best-friend, when he was still hard from their little rendezvous, the orange head turned away from the two men and tucked into the car.

"Hop in," he said as he got the car started, feeling way uncomfortable.

Abarai Renji couldn't help but snicker at the embarrassment coming off of the young CEO. The usually snarky man was nowhere to be seen. Instead there in front of him was the awkward junior he had known in his school days. He couldn't see the orange head's face at the moment considering that he had been pushed to the backseat by a vigorous Grimmjow, but he could easily imagine the expression on the younger man's face.

Renji got a feeling that Grimmjow didn't like him, despite his easy acceptance of the other. But he chose to ignore it.

They drove out of the campus in silence, looking at the passing buildings, staffs, outsiders – they were all in a hurry. Not for the first time, Renji was happy that he was one of the executives, meaning he could take time-off whenever he wanted. In the beginning Renji had been working for the recovery team of the Seireitei Corp as a manager. His job had been to hunt for those people who didn't pay back the borrowed money, use a little persuasion (some of which didn't show up in the records), and make them pay. It had been fun. Until he had gotten a much better post as the assistant director of the Accounting dept. with a much better salary, work schedule and not to mention an opportunity to work under a really hot man. He couldn't complain

Renji glanced at the flaming orange head before him – noted the stiff shoulders and tight expression through the rearview mirror. "So, is he going to be like a spy?," he spoke up, finally, as they entered the highways, "You know, now that he's on our side and stuff."

He watched the two other exchange glances, and finally some of the steam and embarrassment left out of the shorter man. But Grimmjow was the one to reply his question.

"Are you really as stupid as you look?" sneered the blue-head, turning his head to send Renji a baffled look, "There's no way Las Noches doesn't know I'm with him, now. Don't underestimate Aizen. He probably knows that we are sitting right in this car, heading where we are and discussing him." His tone suggested he was dead serious.

"Don't call me stupid, you idiot," shot back Renji. He eased back into the seat and stretched his legs in what little space there was.

"But what's up with the 'bodyguard' shit, anyway?" growled Grimmjow, turning his attention back to the driver.

"Bodyguard?" asked Renji, not quite getting what was going on.

"Yeah," drawled Grimmjow, casting Renji a glance – one that was less condescending this time. "This idiot seems to have figured, it would be fun playing master-servant for a change."

"It would be, actually," chimed in Renji, earning a glare from both the men.

"What he's trying to say is…" and Ichigo launched into a detailed story of what had happened, most of which Renji already knew from Rukia.

"It just a cover," explained Ichigo, "Among the employees, that is. I'm gonna have to keep him with me all day long. Just in case" –

Grimmjow bumped the shorter man's shoulder and the entire car lurched sideways, almost bumping into a pick-up truck which was passing by. "Just in case, what?", he hissed, "I don't need a damn baby sitter."

"Well, you proved otherwise today," retorted Ichigo, gripping the steering wheel tighter this time, "You are a danger to yourself _and _others. Besides, you don't have a choice there, Grim. Urahara was quite clear about you being under 'scrutiny' at all circumstances. Would you rather it be someone else?"

That made the blue-head flick his middle finger at Ichigo.

"I'm kinda surprised, Urahara let you go with just that," commented Renji, "I can't imagine him being too happy about getting cozy with the other side. Arresting the enemy and using any method whatsoever to extract insider information would sound more like him."

Ichigo glanced at Renji through the rearview mirror. They were still in the highways, and the traffic was on the higher side. He could see one more hour being wasted in these roads.

"I think he already knew about him," said Ichigo, the anxiety he felt showing in his voice, "Since – since the day I brought him back. He knows more than he's showing."

"Yep, probably," said Renji, scowling. He had been on one too many of that man's 'plans' and it had left him with memories that he didn't want to revisit.

"I don't know whether to be pissed or awed," grunted Grimmjow, "But you seemed to be more worried about that old man scientist of yours than what Aizen might be at. He's not going just let me go, you know. I am his nephew, after all. "

Ichigo sighed and slowed the car to stop at a signal. A woman in black rushed past them and got into one of the cars waiting along the stop-line.

"Yeah," said Ichigo, as the green signal fell and they started to move again, "We know that. But strangely enough, there doesn't seem to be any suspicious activity taking place Las Noches. Not anything out of norm," He retrieved a file from the glove compartment and threw it to Renji, "Look at it. It's from Soi Fon. There have been no blasts, murder, or even a single kidnap tracing back to Las Noches for the past few weeks. No threatening, no bribing – nothing unusual happening around Las Noches. In fact, it's almost as if they have given up their diabolic roles or something."

"Which, I'm assuming, doesn't fool you in the slightest," remarked Renji, going through the report with a dubious expression.

"Of course not," snorted Ichigo. He was having a little trouble at going past the black Sedan in front of him. It seemed as if the damned driver wouldn't let him get past. Pressing the horn with a tad more force than necessary, he continued, "I will be damned if they suddenly turned saints. They are probably cooking something big –just like what Grim said. But the problem is, if there is nothing happening, there is nothing to go by. Not a clue where to start digging. For now, all we can do is, wait for Aizen to make the first move."

"And you are okay with it?" asked Renji, his eyebrows forming a deep frown. He knew it was uncharacteristic of Ichigo towait for _anything_, much less something like letting his enemy have his way while he squatted on the sidelines doing nothing.

"He ain't gotta choice, gorilla-head," said Grimmjow, matter-of-factly, "It's not like he can go against what that blondie says."

"Hey quit that tone –

Before Renji could finish whatever he was about to say, the car gave a violet jerk and everyone including the driver was momentarily suspended in air. They fell back into their seats harshly, and the red-head on the back seat hit the roof in the process.

"What the fuck was that?" yelled Renji, while Grimmjow let out a few expletives.

"I don't know!" hissed Ichigo, "Those bastards in front, they wont let me go through," Tension was fast filling his voice and the atmosphere in the car changed in a blink, "Just look at the back!

Surely enough, a line of similar looking cars were closing in on them. If Renji didn't know better, they could have been mistaken as protection for the young CEO. But he knew better, because Ichigo's protection was always Silver Toyota's. The one's in the back weren't.

"What the _fuck _is going on?" Grimmjow tried to slide the window down, but Ichigo grabbed his him before he could do anything rash.

"Don't open the window. They could have guns on them!"

"And you don't!" Grimmjow and Renji almost screamed at a time.

Trying to maneuver the car as best as he could, Ichigo choked out a reply, "I do! Under your seat! There should be one!" The car lurched badly again. One of the cars from the back sped forward and slammed into the BMW sideways. The occupants, once again jerked from their seats. Renji, who had, by now, put on his belt, was saved from hitting his head again. It still didn't get any better.

"How's _that_?" came a women's voice out of no where, "Didn't think you were this easy, Shinigami."

"What the –

"They have tapped into the car! So shut the fuck up before you say something you don't want to say," yelled Renji over the noise of their car screeching like a wounded animal.

"Godammit," cursed Ichigo, "Get the fucking gun. Get the fucking gun."

"You said it twice."

"Get the goddamn gun, Grimmjow!"

The blue-head dug his hand below the seat, fishing for a metal, something cold and hard. It was a hard thing to do considering his hand was shaking like a leaf on wind.

"There's nothing here. Where did you put the gun?"

"It's there. Right there," Ichigo was yelling at the top of his voice.

"It's fucking _not there_."

"Of course, it's not there," came the mocking female voice again, "I took it. Wanna see?"

"Who the fuck are you?" That was Renji, who felt like he was going to be sick. The cars were much nearer now, and he didn't do well with closed space.

"Not telling. But I'll tell you one thing," her voice was sultry and Ichigo wanted to strangle whoever that bitch was, "You are all going to die."

"Like hell!" shouted Grimmjow, and Ichigo, throwing caution to the wind, slammed on to the accelerator, hitting a black Sedan's bumper. If only he had noticed that something was off before it had gotten this far –but that didn't matter now. These bastards were trying to steer them into a particular direction – either to ambush them later on or put them in danger's way. But the latter seemed to be less probable because if that was what they were aiming for, they could have done it way earlier.

"No," spoke Ichigo, his voice back to calm once again, "I don't think you want to kill us. I think you want us to reach somewhere, in our own car. To probably meet someone. Am I right?"

"Whatever," came the voice, "It's not like you gotta choice. Just enjoy the ride, baby."

"Ah, that's where you are wrong," laughed Ichigo, but there was no humor in his tone. With one hand still on the wheel, he dug into his pocket for his mobile and threw it at Renji.

"Call the last number on the list. Tell them to bring my helicopter."


	6. I know it's her

Title: Winning His Heart Disclaimer: I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
Fanfic Author: xancrish  
Rating: PG-13 (for now).  
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow  
Genre: AU, Slash, Romance, Suspense, Angst  
Warnings: A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

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The roads were wet and slippery after the snowfall from the previous day. While the weather itself was not too shabby, it was still very dangerous to speed down the streets on a bike, which was exactly what Kurosaki Ichigo was doing. His fifteen year-old self could barely contain the excitement he felt. The teen had been waiting for an entire week and finally he would be able to go down to meet his friend.

What little snow was left from yesterday clung to the leaves and branches of trees alongside of the road, making them hang low because of the additional weight. Ichigo Kurosaki felt like he was flying through a series of arches that would lead him to some secret garden, which was partly true. For no significant reason, no one knew about these rendezvous that the orange head was shared with one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. It had not been intentional, it had just been so from the beginning – when the younger boy had met the strange blue-haired foreigner on a winter night, alone in a park when he had been separated from his mother, when he would cut his club period in elementary school to race to their hideout and when he would sneak out of service on Sunday mornings when his mother wasn't looking his way.

When on that fateful night, Ichigo had finally found Masaki near one of the telephone booths, on the phone with Isshin, panicking about her missing son, he had immediately tried to reach out to the other boy in dark, to introduce to his mom's his new friend – only the said boy was missing; he had vanished into the thin air of the cold night. That memory still brought a smile to the orange-head's face. Over the years, Ichigo learnt that the other boy was very much skilled at pulling the disappearing act and his various attempts at bringing the boy home, later on, had been as successful as the first.

As time passed, the young boy gave up on setting up his savior from that night with his family. 'Ichigo and Grimmjow', and 'Ichigo and the others' was how it was and he came to accept it.

Ichigo was pulled out his thoughts when the park came into the view, and he put more energy into peddling the bike. After all, he had some really exciting things to tell the blue haired boy.

It took the eager teen a whole minute to find where the other boy was. In the little space below the slide where Ichigo had been hiding the first time they had met, was Grimmjow sitting with his back propped to the ladder, his eyes closed and thrums of beats blowing out of his rather loud earphones. His frame was much taller and filled out now and he barely fit into the tiny place. Gone was the lanky guy and enter a hunk with rippling muscles and tanned skin; Not surprisingly, this fact put Ichigo ill at ease. He had long given up trying to out-grow the other boy, but it still put him off every time he realized just how much cooler the other boy looked than him.

But even that could spoil his mood today.

Ichigo stepped in front the older boy and pulled the earphones out to get his attention. He gave a satisfied smirk when the blue-haired boy jerked, caught off-guard and glared daggers at him when he came back down to earth.

"Still listening to that trash?" said Ichigo, by way of greeting.

Grimmjow shot out his leg, kicking Ichigo on his shin.

"That hurt, asshole!" Ichigo cried in pain and limped a couple of steps away from his supposed friend.

"You deserve it, strawberry."

"Shut up, _kitty_-chan."

They ended up muddying themselves; hair tangled in a mess, face smeared in dirt and fist clenching each other's clothes. This was not an unusual position for Ichigo to be in when it involved Grimmjow. In fact, there had been worse times.

"Okay, okay," said Ichigo, putting a hand up, trying to placate the other and give up the fight. "Let's continue this later, shall we? If I get my uniform torn like the last time, Mom would do the same thing to my head," Grimmjow snorted at that, "besides, I have some really good news to tell ya."

Hands that clung to his collar unclenched and Ichigo loosened his grip too. The blue haired boy peered at him with obvious curiosity, his eyebrows bunched in a frown.

"What's gotten you panties in such a twist? Finally got your periods or somethin'?" scoffed Grimmjow, stepping away from Ichigo and searching for something underneath the slide with his legs.

"Yep, couldn't wait to catch up with you, "snickered Ichigo, his eyes falling on the soccer ball that Grimmjow had brought with him. His automatic response was to try and steal it from the taller boy, but Grimmjow smartly blocked his move, and dribbled the ball away from him. The orange-head jogged after him, "Anyway," said Ichigo, blocking Grimmjow's path. He heaved his shoulder against the taller boy's, who grunted in annoyance and kicked the ball a safe distance away from the both of them. "The thing is –I gotta girlfriend."

Ichigo ran after the ball, and started kicking it away from Grimmjow before the other boy could gain distance on him. "Her name's Orihime and she's really nice – just like her name. I mean, not just the looks. She's like, you know, really kind and stuff. And smart, too. Oh, but, you should never eat what she offers. She's got this really creepy taste for food combinations. I almost passed out the other day when she made me eat her bento. But, that's okay. She's kinda funny that way. And, I think I like her, man," rattled on Ichigo.

It took a couple more seconds for Ichigo to realize the other was not playing anymore.

Ichigo could have sworn he felt an electric shock go through him when he saw the expression on Grimmjow's face. He didn't understand what it meant, didn't understand the depth of emotion in them, but it seemed liked something about what he done or said in the past few seconds had greatly disappointed the blue haired boy. He just stood there, staring at Ichigo like he was seeing someone entire new, like he was a stranger. Ichigo had the keenest of urges to throw his arms around the taller man.

"What the fuck?" came the stunned whisper from Grimmjow.

"Uh- what?" said Ichigo, completely confused at the change in the other's demeanor.

Grimmjow was standing too still, and it really was creeping Ichigo a little. In the time they had known each other, Ichigo had found the blue-haired to be really action, if not a little rash. He couldn't stay still or sit quietly if his life depended on it. And this – the teen standing before him couldn't be Grimmjow, at all.

"Dude, what's wrong?" prompted Ichigo, stepping closer to the glazed looking boy, "Do you like her or something? You know, it's no big deal. I'm not crazy about her or anything. If you are into her, I'll back out. It's cool," though he had no idea how Grimmjow, who went to a completely different high school, could be into a girl from his school.

Still no reply.

"C'mon, man. You are really creeping me out," said Ichigo, putting his hands on the other's shoulder and shaking a little, "Snap out of it. Stop starring off into space and say something, dammit!"

Blue eyes snapped towards chocolate ones, and Ichigo felt his gut twist with an emotion that was unknown to him. Although he was considerably smaller both in physique and age, the orange-head suddenly felt like he were the powerful one here and more specifically, it felt like he was abusing the power given to him.

The blue haired boy's mouth opened to say something. "How could you"– right then, a vague tune popped up in the background – "do this"– he tried to ignore it, but as Grimmjow's lips kept moving his facials changing as if he were saying something to the orange head, the music grew louder and louder –"tu meh"– and soon, it was the only thing that filled his world.

"Cut it out"

"Stop the damn music."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Stop. Stop. Stop."

"I said SHUT UP!"

-o-o-o-

Ichigo woke up to his mobile screaming in his chest pocket, and thank goodness for the weight on his lap, he didn't fall over his ass on the floor. A still asleep Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez shifted and the weight got heavier. Resisting the urge to throw him off, Ichigo grabbed the cell phone in his pocket and silenced the call.

He felt dizzy and out of it. The dream had been too clearly – what was worse – it wasn't really a dream, but a memory.

He looked down at the blue mess in his lap. Grimmjow's frown was present even in his sleep; the thick eyebrows were bunched so well that one would think he was in deep concentration. _And they say that _I _am a poker face._

Ichigo couldn't move much, because the blue-head had his arms around him in a tight lock, and the more he tried to break free, the more the grip tightened. He couldn't help but think that it was reminiscent of the relationship between them. If only he had seen what lay behind that stone-face that day, if only he had understood the betrayal written all over those teal eyes, may be, things would be different today.

"I think you should pick up the phone, Kurosaki-kun," Mizuro's head peaked from outside the room. "It's been ringing for the past five minutes."

Ichigo was jogged from his thoughts and only then noticed where he was – one of the guest suites in the Seireitei Headquarters. It was grandly furnished with tasteful materials and appliances, colored mostly in monotones it had a professional look to it. He was currently in the living room, resting on a couch with his coat hung over one of the silver artifacts in the corner and unlaced shoes dropped over the middle of the grey carpet. They had come here after the incident earlier that day. By the time his helicopter landed, they were already a safe distance away from their pursuers, who in Ichigo's opinion, had given up too easily. The young CEO had then contacted Urahara and asked him to search for the woman whose voice they had heard in the car; he had finally remembered the black clothed woman who had run across the road at the signal and gotten into the black sedan. From there, putting two and two together had been easy.

Back to the present, his mobile played some jazz he didn't remember setting, again.

The orange head picked up his mobile and say the ID on it.

It was Orihime.

He turned to the guard and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you, Mizuro-san, you can wait outside now." He added then, "Don't let anyone in till I say otherwise. Even if it's Urahara-san"

Ichigo was about to press the 'Answer' button, when a hand grabbed his, and the orange haired man tried not to flinch when a scornful face of Grimmjow appeared before him.

"I know it's her," said Grimmjow, in a voice that was crystal clear and as sharp as any knife could get, "I changed her ring-tone." The other slid to his feet, and put both hands on either side of the orange-head. "Don't pick it up."

"Don't be stupid, Grimmjow," rebuked Ichigo, "She's probably worried about me."

"I don't fucking care," hissed Grimmjow, grabbing the mobile off his hands, "I hate it when she butts into everything damn thing. What happens to you is none of her business."

"Hey, don't do that," chided Ichigo, "Give me the mobile."

"No, you are not talking to her."

Ichigo stood up and reached out for the mobile, but Grimmjow backed away, holding it high taking advantage of his taller stature.

"Bastard, you said you'd break up with her," Grimmjow fisted the orange-head with spare hand, "and that was fucking seven years ago. When the hell are we going to talk about this?"

"Not now, Grimmjow," warned Ichigo, becoming really annoyed at not being able to retrieve his still ringing cell phone.

"Yeah," fumed Grimmjow, his voice growing louder, "There you go again – 'Not now, Grimmjow' 'Now's not a good time, Grimmjow' 'Very soon, Grimmjow' – don't give me the same old shit. Is she that important to you? You know, you once said that she'd didn't mean much to you. So what the fucking hell are you _still _doing with her?"

Ichigo ran a tired hand through his hair. All he wanted was a cup of strong coffee and a warm bed; he was tired and had just almost died. When faced with near-death situations on a daily basis, relationship problems shouldn't have seemed like the pressuring point in life. But logic be damned, it was the greatest issue right now.

"You make it sound like I want to be with her."

"Huh?" Grimmjow' surprise was obvious in his tone.

"I don't have a choice." Ichigo gave up trying to get back his mobile. He would just have to call his fiancée back later. He settled back on the couch, removed his already loosened tie and rested his head on the backrest.

"Like what?" Weight shifted near him, and the orange head could feel the other's hot breathing on the side of his face. "Don't tell me it's something shitty like, a last promise you made to your father. I might just kill you, if you did."

Ichigo turned his neck, facing the older man with a sardonic smile. "Yeah, it kinda is."

No one could have predicted what happened next. Grimmjow laughed. It was not just a maniacal, mocking laugh, but actual laugh. Like he was highly amused at what Ichigo had said.

"You are kidding me, right? Is this some weird escapism of yours, again? Blaming your old man of all things," giggled Grimmjow, "That's a new low for you, Ichigo."

He didn't know why, but the blue head's reaction annoyed him more than it should have. "I'm telling you the truth." He clenched and unclenched his fingers, a habit he developed for when he felt restless. "But it is not exactly like that," he continued, looking away from the taller man, not sure he really wanted to say anything anymore.

"I'm all ears, Shinigami," scowled Grimmjow, "It's not like I haven't heard weirder shit from you before."

The younger man sighed, and took a moment to answer him.

"Orihime used to have a brother. Since her parent's died when the siblings were young, the older brother, Sora Inoue, raised Orihime like she was his daughter. He was everything to her, then – mother, father, teacher, friend – everything. So when she lost him in a car accident, she was as good as dead inside." Ichigo raked his pant pocket and withdrew a cigarette box. He picked out one and with out lighting it, put it in his mouth. "A car accident for which my father was responsible. "

"So, he pushed it onto your head?" The blue-head's hand shot out and Ichigo found the cig in his mouth gone. Grimmjow twirled it in his fingers, like it held some answers of its one. "That's some tyranny he's got going there. Fighting Aizen for so long must have started having it's effect on him, " he said more to himself than to Ichigo, finally deciding to put Ichigo's cig in his own mouth. "So, how did he do it anyway? Sign a contract? It can't ve been that long, then. You have to be eighteen for stuff like that to enforceable."

Sometimes, Ichigo had to remind himself that Grimmjow was one of the top corporate executives out there and he was more perspective then he let on.

"No exactly," said Ichigo, a little hesitant to discuss this part, but doing it anyway, "It's more like, he made a will were I won't get even a penny if I don't marry her."

"You mean…"

"Yep, in other words, marrying Orihime is a condition to my inheritance of the Seireitei Corporation. So, even if I wanted to, which I do, I can't break up with her."

There wasn't any response from Grimmjow for a while, but when he did reply, it was like a slap to the face.

"Messing with someone's feelings like this – not one, but two of us – just for the sake of some stupid will. I guess, that's your lowest low, then, Ichigo."

-o-o-o-

A/N: Okay so, I know there's probably some spelling mistakes and grammatical errors - it's coz it's almost midnight here and I can't proof read now. I will come back and rectify this mistakes. Please bear with me. Sorry.

And, please don't hate Ichigo coz he's tossing around people like that. He's really trying to do his best .(And he had his reasons...hush hush).And writing Grimmy talking about feelings was kinda weird. LOL. I think he's becoming too Out of character.

I hope you liked it. Comments and reviews are love. :D


	7. Can someone mute this place?

Title: Winning His Heart Disclaimer: I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
Fanfic Author: xancrish  
Rating: PG-13 (for now).  
Pairing: Ichigo/Grimmjow  
Genre: AU, Slash, Romance, Suspense, Angst  
Warnings: A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

156156156

The little bells that hung in the front chimed rhythmically, as the front door was opened. A stream of white light fell through the opening, and the articulately designed shop was thrown into momentary brightness. The Persian rug shone like made of gold strands stitched around rare gems, the silver cutlery cut from diamonds; pastries and cakes that could befit a royal tea party, glasses of red wine mimicking that of the God's filled up the majority of the dark wood tables. People wore clothes that profiled their high-class status – their dresses were of silk, shoes of imported leather and watches of gold– and they were happy. Two small children ran about the room, chocolate smudged on their faces, chasing each other around a table of adults; a group of youngsters with loosened ties and discarded coats were having an office party, an old couple sat together in the corner smiling at each other and ate sweets that might not really suit their age. As the door was closed behind the man who had appeared, the room went back to its candle-light dimness.

No one looked twice at the silver haired man as he entered the restaurant. His place had been reserved – a glance, a quick word –and a butler appeared out of nowhere and the man to his table. He wore a coat that screamed of money and a pair of coolers that was out of place on a winter evening. Nevertheless, he fit right into the picture of elegance that surrounded him.

Ichimaru Gin glanced at his watch and smiled when he realized it was time to make the phone call. Ignoring the waiter who had appeared before him, he pulled out his IPhone. The call was picked up on the second ring, as always, and a warm, pleasant voice spoke through it.

"Everything went as expected then?"

"Ya bet it," drawled back Gin. "Those two kitties are having a spat, right as we speak. Oblivious of everything."

"Oh?" A small chuckle, "That's reassuring, isn't it? I wouldn't want to spoil the fun I have stored for our young comrade. It's best when he's ignorant of the surprise waiting for him."

Gin smiled as well.

The man who was waiting him couldn't have been more that twenty. He wore a plastic smile that was not very unusual for his job. But the shuffle on his foot indicated his impatience. Gin took mercy and jabbed his finger unmindfully on the menu, ordering whatever was in it.

"Seems like Loly did a good job," he said, returning to his call and leaning his head back on his hand, "That was one good mock-ambush. Hafta let her teach me to drive like that. Crazy woman, I tell ya."

A dismissive sound and – "It's required of a _Fraccion_. After all, the mission executors should be in top shape. Nothing special." There was a pause and some jazz could be heard from the other end of the line.

Gin smirked as he said, "Boss, you are not in one of those concerts again?" His voice carried the amusement he felt.

"My dear boy," replied Aizen, "You have yet to learn the benefits of listening to good music. Now, if Grimmjow were here, he'd know to appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah, Captain," scoffed Gin, "You keep telling me that. Some day I'm even start liking it."

The waiter returned holding a tray full of dishes Gin didn't care noticing. But there was a pot of something hot – probably a kind of traditional tea. "Pour me some of that," he said not bothering to place a hand over the mouth piece as he spoke.

"How did it go with Rangiku?" came through the voice.

Gin did not even flinch at his ex's name.

"You know how she is. She ain't gonna listen to me no matter how many times I tell 'er. She's still stuck to that Lilliput boss of hers."

Aizen laughed.

"Is that jealousy I hear?"

"You wish," scoffed Gin, "Although, I'm a bit disappointed, I tell ya. Had no idea she'd become such a wuss – Teaming up with those losers just 'coz it's the 'right' thing to do. Well, it ain't gonna matter any way. They all gonna bow down to you soon enough. Right, boss?"

"Now, now, Gin. Let's not get ahead of ourselves," came the patronizing reply, "But, you have a point. Let's not worry about miniscule details like her anymore. If situations come up, I'm assuming you'd be able to handle it." And Gin knew in normal terms that translated to: 'If the opportunity presents itself, you _will_ kill her.'

"You don't hafta even say, Captain. Haven't I told you? I'm like a snake – I'd slither, slaughter and swallow every tasty little prey that comes my way."

The amusement in the high laugh that followed was unmistakable.

"Let's just hope Miss. Princess lives up to our expectations and lures out those very preys you just mentioned. Those rats need all the probing they can get."

"That wouldn't be a problem at all, boss. Like I told ya, everything is goin' as planned."

"Hmm. Then rap up your work at the Shiba Restaurant and return to the Towers. It's about time we got the show running."

The porcelain tea cup that was laid before him was filled to the brim. Gin left it untouched as he pocketed his phone and rang the bell for the waiter.

The uniformed kid returned looking a little nervous. Gin hitched a finger beckoned him to come nearer. The lady in extravagant green gown, sitting in next table gave the silver haired man a strange look as the waiter stood uncomfortably close to him. Gin, of course, didn't mind the glance a bit. In fact he felt pleased having wrought someone's attention.

"Whatcha name kid?" asked Gin, his smile never once leaving his face.

"Shinji," replied the black haired waiter, "I couldn't introduce myself since you were on the phone," he added weakly.

"Hmm, Shinji?" Gin looked look up at the woman, who had now stopped eating to blatantly survey what was going on in the next table. And so were the two teenagers from the table across him; the old couple, too. "Who's your boss?" asked Gin, as he gave a polite nod to the audience he had gathered.

"Um-what?" blurted the waiter, a little caught off-guard.

Now that was a clear demonstration of unprofessionalism if you asked Gin. "Ya boss, kid. Who's your boss?" repeated Gin, patiently. Curious glances got more curious and even more of them joined. By the time the green-waiter replied Gin had the majority of the populace's attention. Even the staff behind the counter was sending him glares for causing a scene in such a high-profile place.

"It's Shiba Kaien-sama."

"Good," replied Gin as he stood up. He retrieved his coat which he had hung on a spare chair and made to leave, when a deliberate cough stopped him.

It was the green-garbed lady. She gave a nod in the waiter's direction, who had frozen to his place. "You didn't pay," she said, even as the husband sitting beside her tried to stop her.

"My bad, my bad," Gin grinned and turned to the black haired youngster. He took out his wallet and made a grand gesture of taking out some bills and – "Oh, wait," he said, "I forgot ta tell ya, didn't I?" He leered as he hung his face right in front of the startled waiter's.

"You know, ya boss? He didn't pay up his debt for last six months. And, now, _my_ boss is kinda pissed. So ya see, I came up with this idea and lemme tell ya, it was the easiest one I have ever come up with. Here's how it goes: I go visit this little den of Shiba-chan and get behind the counters – Ya saw me last week, dintcha?" The waiter gave a jerky nod. "Poor kid, you're like a lamb that's caught between the teeth of a lion. Can't move no where, can't do nothing." He laughed at his own joke. "So, I sneak in, get a picture of this place and find a spot to put in my magical stuff. And I found it."

Gin moved away from the clearly rattled waiter and surveyed his audience. The smile momentarily left his face to be replaced by a morose one. "This is what happens to people who mess with Las Noches," his voice had no traces of amusement from before, "The water you drank moments before, the food that's been made with the very same water – everything is poisoned. I added it directly into the building's water system. You will all die in exactly two minutes."

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In an emergency state, the Seireitei HQ did not make a good sight. The Black Cats ran amuck, trying to reach their position; placed all over the campus were additional security – the cover corps, although, only a few knew about those. Staff and executives tried to contact their branch members, inform of the latest developments and their respective stations. Outsiders were made to freeze to a place or led out of the premises depending upon the severity of the situation. Corridors were crowded, elevators were occupied, and staircases sealed, counters and phone lines busy, faceless people rushing past, not a clue of where they were and where they were supposed to be. It was a good thing that the Seireitei HQ had gone into a state of emergency only twice. The first incident had been a long while ago – a tip-off from an anonymous phone call about a bomb hidden inside the building. The response had been efficient – within half an hour the building had been emptied out (not a small feat considering its immense structure) and the piece of threat had been found attached to one of the decorative wall clocks in the board meeting hall.

And now, it was the second time.

Ichigo hadn't had an opportunity to comeback when the loud siren like alarms went off. Although they had had drills on this particular aspect, and he knew what that sound meant, it took him some time to realize what he was hearing and in that split second of confusion, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he didn't have to answer Grimmjow.

Grimmjow didn't share his feelings.

"For Christ's sake, what in the hell is that noise?" , the blue head growled out, gritting his teeth in his normal fashion, "Why the blazes can't a man have one single talk with his boy-friend?"

"Grimm – "

"Save it," Grimmjow held up a hand, "Don't give me that 'later' bullshit, again. I'm not even sure I want to talk about it anymore. Let's just get the hell out of this noisy place."

It was a crazy feeling. Ichigo had never felt so hopeless, like he was grasping for something only to find that it's disappearing into thin air. _Why won't he understand me? I don't have a choice! If only I could tell you everything…._was what he wanted to scream. But his position tied him and so he found himself rushing out of the suite, behind the taller man, not knowing what he was going to do about the fragile relationship that existed between them.

The corridor immediately outside was deserted. The lady who was supposed to be behind the reception counter was missing. The elevator was occupied, and since it was the penthouse they were in, it was an insane idea to climb down the stairs. And, of course, the noise didn't get any better. .

"_Jesus_. Someone mute this fucking place. It's giving me a migraine," said Grimmjow. He rounded to the shorter man and gestured wildly and said, "What now?"

"Why are you asking me?" shouted Ichigo, "I'm not a goddamn answer-machine! I don't even know what the hell's going on!"

"Well you should! Aren't like the fucking boss around here?"

There was a loud cough. The two guards stationed outside of the guest room had been completely forgotten, and they had been behind the two men all along.

"You should try contacting executive, or at least the security department. Don't you have mobile?" spoke Keigo, the one who was usually hyper and behaved like he was a two-year old kid, looking at the both of them as if they had lost their minds. Mizuro, the other guard elbowed him in the rib, indicating him to keep his loud mouth shut.

Ears burning, and making a choking noise, the orange head neared the counter and leaned to pick up the phone there. Behind him, he heard the other man mutter, "Oh yeah, I kinda cracked his mobile."

The call was picked up in the first ring.

"Kurosaki-kun! Where are you?" came the firm voice of Urahara. "Why didn't pick up?"

"I'm stuck in the pent-house and my mobile's kinda broken thanks to some - wait," said Ichigo, "How did you know it was me?"

"Doesn't matter," rushed Urahara, "Get down to the R & D dept as soon as you can."

"Can you explain to me what is going on?" Ichigo spoke into the receiver, feeling a bit rattled at the despair he could detect in the other's voice.

"I will," the scientist's voice sounded strained, "As soon as you get down here." And then the line was dead.

"Well, some help that was," Ichigo leaned over the counter and looked at the three elevator doors, all of which were still stuck in some zenith floor below.

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Urahara paced back and forth, his eyebrow crinkled in a serious frown. The sandal hat he usually wore was gone, and the grey eyes that used to be hidden behind its shadow were filled with a profound worry and panic.

"Stop that, Kisuke," Yoruichi jumped from the counter she had been sitting on and folded her hands as she surveyed her long-time friend.

"Stop what?" said Urahara, a little irritated.

"That," said Yoruichi, pointing a finger at him, "pacing around like the world's going to burst any second. It's ticking me off."

"I'd appreciate it if you take the situation more seriously, Yorouichi-san," he said in a no-nonsense tone.

"I do, old man," replied the cat-like woman, "I just don't find the point in wasting my energy by prancing around the room like I'm on heat or something."

"That boy," muttered Urahara, ignoring the woman, "What's was he thinking? I can't figure out. To trust him so much. Why would he have him back? I don't understand. And, now, look what's happened?"

The sound of approaching footsteps stopped him from saying anymore than that. The lab door was opened and a group of seven entered: Ishida, Renji, Rukia, Grimmjow, Ichigo and his two guards.

"What's going on?" Ichigo plunged in as soon as he was earshot of the scientist. "People are going mad allover the place? Is it a fire? Bomb threat? Theft? No bloody person would answer me!"

"No one's answering because no one knows, kid," said Yoruichi, seating herself back on the counter.

"What?" came the unison exclamation from five different people.

"Tell me," said Urahara, finally taking a seat near one of the monitors that were running innumerous graphs, "How many of you here took an afternoon nap today?"

"Old man," growled Grimmjow, "Can you quit joking around and please explain why I was dragged halfway across the world just 'coz of some damned noise,"

"No. This is important," cut in Urahara, the sharpness of his tone making the blue-head flinch a little, "Answer my question."

"Well," said Ichigo, exchanging a glance with Grimmjow, "We were kinda tired after that little incident in the morning, guess." He laughed, uncomfortably. "Damn, I don't even remember when I fell asleep. Just sagged into the bed as soon as I saw it in the suite." Now that he thought about it, his memories after talking to Urahara (over the phone about the black haired woman) seemed to be a little blurred. He didn't remember having requested a suite, nor did he remember deciding to take some rest. _Strange. _

"I kinda fell asleep on my table," spoke up a blushing Renji, "Byakuya got totally pissed at me. Asked me if I had finally resorted to drugs or something." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, which earned a laugh from Rukia and surprisingly enough from Grimmjow.

"And you Kuchiki-san?" nodded Urahara, encouraging her to continue. His rather stiff tone sobered the atmosphere even more.

"I was with Hanatarou," she replied, "He was taken to the Seireitei Medical Branch this morning. His heat's a little weak and that scare from Jaegerjaquez this morning did little good to him. So I was taking care of him and…."

"And?" prompted Urahara.

"Isn't it obvious, Kisuke?" – 'tsk'ed Yoruichi, "She fell asleep."

"That's crazy," exclaimed Ishida, "I guessed something was off when I suddenly lost consciousness in the middle of a meeting. But I never imagined –"

"That your colleagues and friends were all drugged at the same time, around 2 p.m to be exact, for the same unknown reason?"

Everyone looked at Urahara like he had just sprouted another head.

"Well, how many of here have a habit of sleeping in the middle of your office hours?" Urahara said, looking at each and everyone them as if he dare them to reply.

"Wow," said Renji, "That just's – it can't be true right? We were in different places, had different things. _How?_"

"Let's leave the 'how' for now, Abarai," interrupted Ishida, "The more pressing question is why?"

"It can't be," muttered Ichigo, a strange kind of fear taking over him, "It can't be that something happened when we were sleep – unconscious." He pulled a chair and sat on it, facing Urahara with a tight expression. "Tell me, have you figured out why we were drugged?" He felt a hand being place on his right shoulder, squeezing it, trying to reassure him – Grimmjow.

"Yes," said Urahara, directing his gaze solely on Ichigo, "Inoue-san's been kidnapped."


	8. Nice one, you almost got me

The shrill sound of bell ringing echoed through out the corridors, not a second later, a buzz of overlapping voices filled the air. Textbooks were hurriedly stuffed into bags, chairs were pushed aside and with the noise of leather shoes slapping against the marble floor, students filed out of class, one by one.

Misato Ochi sighed and bent down to pick up her bag. It was only lunch break, and she already felt like she could call it a night and go straight to bed. In twenty years of her experience as a high school teacher, she didn't think she had ever faced a worse batch than now. '_Kids these days,'_ was a constant wonderment in her mind. Trying to keep up with their pace was easier said than done and since summer was nearing it was even harder to keep up with their over-zealous attitude. Her only hope was that she could make it back to hometown coming summer break without any permanent mental scars on her.

The brunette's thoughts were interrupted when determined footsteps drew near her. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see gleaming blond hair and that was enough to pique her curiosity.

"Inoue-san?" She could hardly keep the surprised tone out of her voice. If anyone needed extra help after class, Orihime Inoue, one of the top rankers of the school would be the last person to come up in her mind. "What is it? Did you perhaps, not understand something in the lesson today?", she asked dubiously.

"That –," said the blonde girl, hesitation clear in her voice, "It's about Kurosaki-kun."

"Kurosaki, huh?" replied the teacher, her tone indicating her displeasure. She already knew where this conversation was headed and couldn't stifle the pang of irritation she felt at the mentioned name. The reason for it was well known among the students and staff, equally: the once sweet elementary school boy, who did his work diligently, talked in a polite manner, cared for his friends and more than anything showed up to school properly, was now a seriously misguided, trouble-addicted and hopelessly incorrigible wannabe gangster. His indignant behavior at school was a whole story in itself. Teachers loathed him, classmates detested him and friends had already given up on him.

"I just wanted to know if he turned up to school today," said Orihime. Ochi suspected she already knew the answer to that question.

"You even have to ask?" asked Ochi, slinging her bag on his shoulder and dusting the powered chalk off her table. "He's kipping school, of course."

Dejection was written all over the student's face, "So he didn't come? I thought - I thought maybe he was running some errands for the teachers."

"Hardly," scoffed Ochi, as she looked directly at the blonde girl. Just by looking at the girl, one could tell how worried she was. Ochi pitied her: just fifteen and already carrying the burden of two. Placing her hands on both of Inoue, the brunette continued, "I know you both are close and that you probably sympathize with him more than we do. But he's already a lost case. He turns up to school when h feels like it, and when he does come he wanders around the campus picking fight with the other kids. I don't know how to handle him anymore. Contacting his family has not been effective, either. He's just getting worse everything. I'm afraid sooner or later he's going to land himself in a _juvi._ You should just give up your hopes for him, Inoue –san."

"I can't–"

"That's not very nice of you, Sensei," an annoyed voice interrupted.

In the entrance, resting languidly against the door frame, wearing a deep scowl on his face stood Kurosaki Ichigo.

"You," chided the teacher, getting away from Inoue to face the orange heard teenager, "Do you know what time it is? You have skipped the entire morning session."

Kurosaki made his way to the teacher's desk and not once did his eyes graze Inoue's. "You are upset with me?" he asked, unbelievingly, "Rather, don't you think, it should be me being upset with you? Talking about me behind my back, sharing personal information to a fellow classmate – where have your ethics gone too? Or are you planning on resigning soon?"

Inoue flinched as the teacher grabbed Kurosaki by his collar, and momentarily forgot all about her 'job' and 'role'.

"You brat. You have a nerve to be talking like that. Don't think I'll be kind to you just because I'm a teacher. And what are you calling 'personal information'? The whole school what kind of trash you have become. It is only understandable that I'd try to talk discuss you with your _girlfriend_."

"She's not my girlfriend," said the orange head, cruelly, still ignoring the other girl. The denial – was it because of his anger, or was it the truth was not apparent.

"Nevertheless," continued Ochi, as if the other hadn't interrupted her, "She's worried about you and making a girl feels like that – you should be ashamed Kurosaki."

The orange haired student fought out of the teacher's grip, and replied through gritted teeth, "That's why I keep saying, your nose is too big _Sensei." _He brushed the bangs that fell on his eyes, revealing a badly bandaged forehead. "Stick it were it belongs."

Both of the spectators were both thrown off, and the brunette instinctively reached a hand to the temperamental teenager's forehead.

"Kurosaki – what –"

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"Shut up," cursed the student, stepping back and reaching for Orihime, simultaneously, "Too noisy. It's giving me a headache. I'm leaving." Grabbing the blonde, the orange-head dragged her out of the class.

"You arrogant prick! Come back here," Ochi shouted after the impolite kid. She had lost all her composure and her face was flushed red with anger, "You can't just storm in here and leave as you please. I said wait. You! Kurosaki Ichigo!"

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"Kurosaki-kun," said Inoue, her voice small with embarrassment. She slid down beside the other, sitting under the shadow of the long-branched tree. No one else in the near vicinity and the only sound that broke through the silent atmosphere was the small chirping sound from the trees above.

"Why were you talking to that damned woman?" bit off the orange head. "It's hard enough to ward of the punks in school. Now I'm even bothered by someone like her."

"I was worried," said Inoue, reaching for Ichigo's forehead only to have her hand shot aside, "Please, let me have a look at it."

"No," said Ichigo and continued assaulting her with words, "So you thought gossiping about my life with the class teacher would be a good idea?"

"Kurosaki-kun!" said the blonde, more than a little hurt at the harsh words. "It wasn't like that. I just wanted to help – "

"Forget it," cut-in the other, "No point talking about it." The orange-head rested his back on the tree trunk and closed his. No sooner had he done that, crunching noise of leaves and twigs breaking rose and brittle fingers traced his forehead, brushing away his loose bangs. Ichigo sighed, "I told you to not bother with it. It's not a big deal." Though he said that, the fire in his words hade burnt up.

"The bleeding hasn't stopped yet. I'll have to clean it and redress it." said Orihime, her voice gentle with affection and worry, "What happened?"

"It was nothing."

"Kurosa –"

"Just had a fight."

"A fight?" asked Orihime, brows furrowed, "With who?"

"Bunch of kids," said Ichigo.

The blonde girl deducted the dismissive tone and didn't pursue the top anymore. A silence fell over them, the orange haired boy's face relaxed, slowly lulling towards sleep.

The fingers were back on Ichigo's forehead and they slowly slid down, brushing his cheeks and then his chin. The sweet smell of white lilies wafted towards him, and hot breathe caressed against his skin. "Ichigo-kun," whispered Orihime with a deep yearning in her voice. "Why do you always close me off? Then, why…why won't you accept me?"

The orange haired boy opened his with seeming reluctance, and grey one's met his, boring a feeling of despair into his soul. Words wouldn't come to him, to give a proper reply to the girl who had been waiting for him for so long. Even _he_, being the ruthless delinquent that he was, could naught but feel the pricking sensation somewhere in the middle of him, as he gazed at the beautiful girl before him.

In the end, all he could say was, "I'm sorry, Inoue."

Traces of moisture surfaced the grey eyes, and a drop of it trickled down the flushed cheeks of Orihime. Ichigo didn't feel the disgust he usually felt when girls cried, instead, there was a ringing sensation on the back of the mind, nagging at him.

"Why?" Inoue demanded, but her eyes were downcast and her fingers now tracing the bottom of the boy's lips, "Why won't you accept me? Didn't you say that you like me? Didn't you promise to be together with me? So why is there a wall between us now? Do you have someone else? Who is it? Is it someone from school? Who?"

When she didn't get a reply, she let out a sob and bent down to steal a kiss from her unyielding partner. Maybe if Ichigo hadn't kissed her back, she would have understood him better – that he didn't like her, that he wasn't interested in her anymore. So when she felt the other's lips move against her, soft and gentle a perfect mimicry of a lover's kiss, she let out a surprised gasp. More tears escaped her closed lids as they kissed, under the shadow of Cherry Blossom tree, away from rest of the world, with only the warm wind and chirping birds to accompany them.

Orihime had never felt sadder in her life.

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Ichigo clutched his hand around his stomach and let out a loud laugh. Every other person in the room watched as he went into a fit, making a fool of himself.

"Kurosaki," said Ishida, warningly. The HR director (Ishida) had completely lot his composure. His eyes were blurry and face flushed. Out of the audience it seemed like the piece of information that had been relieved had had its most impact on him.

"Nice one," said Ichigo, still laughing, "You almost got me."

Everyone exchanged glances. Urahara's face was filled with pity, Yorouichi similar to it; Renji and Rukia were plainly confused at the absurd way Kurosaki was acting.

Grimmjow was the first to speak.

"Hey, I don't think they are joking," he said, a cross of apprehension and worry written on his face.

"Even you?" said Ichigo, looking at him with a smile, "I'm not that stupid Grimmjow. Remember the phone call a while ago? From Orihime?"

"A phone call which you didn't attend, Shinigami," rebuked Grimmjow. Though his tone was snappy, his eyes were clearly clouded with concern and the way the CEO was acting, it was obvious to everyone in the room that Grimmjow was probably the only one who would be able to handle him now. "You can't know who it was if you didn't attend the call. So if this doctor here says she's kidnapped, then she probably is. Now, quit acting like a kid and face the facts."

Ichigo shook his head, vigorously, though, his smile turned into more of a grimace. "No, no, no. That's just not possible," he said. He turned to the blond scientist and spoke, "Urahara-san, quit this game already. She's probably at her apartment or mine. You guys are just trying to pull something here. A kidnap of a Seireitei member, in broad daylight, after getting past all those security – it's just too impossible to even sound sane. I'm not falling for it."

Ishida's face looked surprised for a second. He had thought that Kurosaki didn't care for Inoue, which was an obvious conclusion one would come too if they saw a boyfriend cheating on his girl. But here he was, looking utterly confused and devastated at the very possibility of Inoue being in harms way. It was definitely not an act and it seemed like, if they let him, Kurosaki would rather go on believing in anything other than the fact that his girlfriend had just been kidnapped.

"It is true," replied Urahara in a grave voice. "Let me explain, Kurosaki-san. We are definitely not here to play with some this as serious as this. The phone you got minutes ago was from Chizuru-san. When she realized that she couldn't reach you, she contacted me not long after. From what I understood, she had made plans with Inoue-san tonight. Initially she had planned to meet up with Inoue-san later in the evening, but Chizuru-san realized she wanted to discuss something about the party with the other girl and had gone to visit the Inoue residence without informing beforehand. She hadn't witnessed the actual kidnapping, but when she informed me of the apartment's status, it didn't take me long to put two and two together."

Urahara paused, noticing how the CEO was steadily paling. "Gin Ichimaru," muttered the blond man, "He's the reason why you slept through the time when Inoue-san was kidnapped."

Ichigo turned sharply at those words, and Rukia let out a surprised gasp. Renji let a low whistle and said, "Man, this is just getting more and more complicated."

"What about him?" prompted Ichigo.

"When we were busy handling the situation with you ambush – which like had already suspected was only a distraction, Gin Ichimaru slipped into our campus. And of course, if not for the added advantage that he was once a staff here, he wouldn't have been able to make it inside. It's a shame that Matsumoto-san didn't detect his intentions sooner."

"Rangiku? What's she got to do with any of this?" asked Rukia, skeptically. But then, something seemed to click and she gasped, "She didn't!"

"She didn't what?" asked Grimmjow curiously.

"Matsumoto-san and Gin were together before that man betrayed her – betrayed all of us," answered Urahara, "When he told her that he would like to see her, she succumbed and assisted him to set up a meeting. I don't blame her; I'm told that man speaks very convincingly. This and that, he was able slip into the cafeteria's kitchen. Isane from the Medical Section has reported that she witnessed a brawl just before this man, Gin was spotted. From what I can detect, he must have been in the spot earlier to when he was meeting with Matsumoto-san. Using brawl as as distraction must have taken care of slipping the drug. What is more interesting is that, none of the people who were involved in this supposed fight could be identified."

"So everything was set up?" Ishida wanted to confirm.

"Yes."

"Yes my ass," said Renji, "Didn't I tell you we were in different places? And, I sure as hell eat any candies that I got from strangers today. How do you figure he drugged us? Magic?"

"Not candies, Abarai-san," answered Urahara patiently, "But how about something more common, something you won't suspect at all. Like bottled water. Do you remember drinking water from bottles – particularly ones that are delivered from within the campus? "

"How the fuck am I supposed to remember how many times I drank water!" said Renji, his voice showing his irritation, "And we are not allowed to bring in any liquids from outside; the security takes care of it. So practically everything we eat and drink here comes from the cafeteria. Don't go asking questions that are impossible to answer."

"That's what he's trying to point out, kiddo," Yorouichi, reappearing after taking care of some business. "Whatever you eat comes from the cafeteria's kitchen, which we now, belatedly realize is a major safety-issue. So, you were all attacked at different places yes: but with the same things, coming from the same place. Why Kisuke's so sure that its water is because Gin only deals with chemicals that go with water. It's his streak. "

"There must be someone else working along with Gin. He couldn't have accomplished it on his one," commented Ishida, his face frowning with concentration.

"Of course there are," replied the cat-like woman.

"Who?" The question came from Grimmjow.

"We don't know. Yet. The only obvious person was Gin. It could be anyone in the cooking staff, or the waiters or even the customers. We need more time to come up with the exact details."

Everyone became quiet momentarily, each thinking the same thing.

"So, what do we next?" Renji questioned out loud what everyone had in mind.

Everybody's attention was drawn back to the orange head, who seemed to have accepted what was happening, and the effects of it were dramatic His eyes were burning with an unimaginable fury, his fists clenched as if they were ready to punch the guts out of someone and lips stretched in snarling scowl.

"We will go get her back. That's what we will do."

"From who?," asked Renji, "You know who it is that kidnapped Inoue?"

"Who else could it be, idiot," chided Rukia, "Of course it's the Hollows."

"That's why I say, we hurry," continued Ichigo, "We can't let those freaks do anything to Orihime. I won't let that happen."

"Ichigo-kun," said Urahara, his voice gentle, yet sharp, "We need a plan. We can't just barge in to Las Noches without a clue of what to do."

"Screw plan!," shouted Ichigo. Grimmjow tried to get a hold of him and but Ichigo shrugged him off, not even paying the slightest of attention, "I don't fucking care of planning and scheming. I have had a fucking decade of it. It's exactly because we are hiding behind blue-prints and strategies, we still haven't gotten to that psychopath yet. I have endured so much – my mom, my dad, my sisters, and now my fianceé. He's gone too far this time, too far. If something happens to Orihime, I'll – I'll – I don't want to wait anymore, I'm not going to plan, and I'm not going to think up anything. I will just drop into that bastard's place, say long time no see, and finish him off. And I don't care what you have to say. Even you, Urahara-san"


	9. Now this is totally outta a spy movie!

**Title:** Winning His Heart (Working Title)  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
**Fanfic Author:** **xancrish**  
**Rating:** PG-13 (for now).  
**Pairing:** Ichigo/Grimmjow  
**Genre:** AU, Slash, Romance  
**Warnings:** A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
**Summary:** Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

156156156156156156156

The gateway to infiltrate Las Noches was in the most unexpected of places. The central park that was situated two miles away from where the Tower Campus started was not what you would call an ideal place for a rescue party or such to crowd. By this time of the day the late evening light would have revealed the happy faces of children playing around, determined joggers running with their ears plugged, benches occupied by couples still in school uniform and formal wears.

The group of Shinigami's dressed in black, their guns and knives scarcely hidden behind their jackets, snuck into their boots and stifled into their leather pants would have been easily spotted like a black sheep in a white herd. But fortune seemed to be in their favor. Thanks to the weather reporter of the national channel, who had promised a very stormy night with poor visibility, the park was deserted. Not even the birds would come out, nor the little burrow animals that found home in the numerous trees.

Dry leaves that were safe under the long branches of the trees noisily crunched as the group of six made their way to one of the seemingly ordinary corners of the park. Although there was an air of excitement and agitation about the group, none of them spoke a single word. It wasn't until they were safely tucked away from the outer word and inside the masses of the tightly grown trees, did the tall did the blond man spoke.

"Here it is" he said, his finger tracing a particular ring on an especially old looking tree's trunk.

"Here's what?" asked Renji, dubiously, closing in on the other man to get a better look at whatever had caught the scientist's attention.

"Ah," replied Urahara, looking rather smug in the red-head's eyes, "That I cannot tell you, yet."

"Can we cut this crap short?" bristled Ichigo, clutching and relaxing his fingers around the gun that was half-buried inside his coat pocket.

"Patience, Kurosaki-kun," berated Urahara, "Nothing good will turn out if you keep rushing into things." The blond man readjusted his sandal hat, and narrowed his eyes as he said, "And please take your hands off the weapon. It's making me nervous."

"As if," Ichigo snorted, but complied to the request grudgingly.

"Besides, aren't we waiting for someone?" said Urahara, ignoring the jibe.

"Who?" asked Grimmjow, his voice curious and a little perturbed for some reason.

"Hey, old man," said Ichigo, interrupted once again, "didn't I tell you that I didn't want to involve anyone in this? It's already troublesome that these guys are getting involved –"

"Jerk," said Rukia.

"Asshole! You are really asking for it!" exclaimed Renji, making a fist.

Ishida righted his glass, his eyes behind them glinting, dangerously.

" –I'm out here for a personal reason. It's not like any of those fights we have had before. This is mine. Mine to fight. I can't expect you people to hold my hands forever, alright? I'd rather do this myself. No need for anymore people to butt in, thank you very much," finished Ichigo.

Not a moment paused after Ichigo's rant when a thick voice came through the darkness behind the little group, "I feel a little hurt that you would consider me an outsider, Ichigo."

There was a stunned silence when a tall figure stepped into a ray of light that had somehow escaped through the column of trees.

"Chad!" Ichigo's face turned blissful, momentarily. "What happened? Is everything okay? I thought you were visiting your Abuelo?," he shot rapidly.

"Everything is fine," said the giant like man, and that is all he said. He came by and stood right beside Ichigo, shoulder to shoulder; as if that should explain what exactly he was doing here.

"What is _that – uh, _I mean, who is _he_?" asked Grimmjow, his eye turning owlish as he surveyed the newcomer.

Rukia was not the only one who glared in Grimmjow's direction. "That's Chad," she said, "Ichigo's best friend."

"Introductions can wait till later," snapped Ichigo, impatience coloring his voice, once again, "Let's get going already."

Nobody disagreed this time. It was time to go.

Urahara gestured everyone to gather close. They were knit in a tight circle, body brushing each other's, but despite that, the darkness blinded them to what was actually happening. Only the person closest to the old scientist, which was Renji, could see as the man worked.

Urahara did something with his finger and suddenly a layer of wood in the tree's trunk gave away. Underneath it was a set of bumps – if one looked closely it like key pads on a telephone – which Renji guess served a similar purpose. To confirm his thoughts, Urahara tapped some combination on those keys and a second later rusty metallic groans filled the air. The group stifled their surprise, when just ahead of them, the rough ground suddenly opened to the skies and right in the middle of the thick darkness emerged a meter wide trap door.

"Shut up! exclaimed Renji, "This is totally out of a spy movie!" Rukia couldn't help but dart him a glance and smile a little at the childish comment; even Ishida snickered a little.

"This is the _Garganta_," said Urahara grandly, "a tunnel or more precisely an opening that leads to an underground maze. Las Noches just happens to be one of its many ends. It's easy to get lost in there. One wrong turn and you will run in circles, many years to come. You can't take anything electronic, or Las Noches will trace location within few seconds– you can't carry cell phones, PDA's, GPS – "

"Yeah, we get idea, sandal-hat. Move on," muttered Ichigo.

" – or anything the like. So the only way to find your way around, and you have to do that really fast since we don't have much time, is to use the old ways."

"Like the Labyrinth in Greece and stuff?" asked Renji.

"Greek Labyrinth is a myth," Ishida said, snidely.

"Says who?"

Urahara cleared his throat soundly and said, "Fortunately you won't be compelled to use fire torches. Instead," the blond man dug into his backpack, and handed each of them two cold sticks, "glow sticks. This way we don't have to worry about batteries running out or wind blowing too hard."

"And, the way? How are we supposed to know where we are going?" asked Ichigo.

"I will give you a map, of course."

The plan had been established, not that it was much of a plan. But that was alright. The moment was finally here. Adrenaline coursed through Ichigo's veins as he looked at the iron door. Two hours, and then, he would be at the other-side, he would get even with the one man who had cursed his entire existence. All the impatience and anxiousness he had felt for the past few were all suddenly gone. Hatred flushed every other feeling out of him. A image of the murderer sitting on his throne, probably enjoying his supper while leisurely discussing how to destroy yet another family, knowing in the back of his mind that Ichigo would surely, make an appearance and fall into his trap, appeared in his mind. For all he knew, Aizen would find it highly amusing that he was getting so worked up over the kidnap. He could already the snide, cocky remarks that would be thrown at him: weak, emotional, desperate, still the same teenage kid who had lost everything.

Ichigo's thoughts filled with disgust, hatred, vengeance and underneath all that _fear._

Clearing the bile in his throat, Ichigo said, "I will go in first."

No one guessed anybody would object.

"No," spoke Grimmjow, who been unusually quiet all along.

"What?" Ichigo was more confused than anything else, and so were the others.

"I mean, I need a word," said Grimmjow, sending the others a quick glance, "_alone. _The others can go in first. Just a quick word, Shinigami."

Rukia cast a worrying look at the both of them. It was not the best of times to get in a fight. Orihime was on the other side of the _Garganta, _in need of their help. On the other, even she could hear the urgency in the blue haired man's words.

Ichigo was another matter.

The orange-haired man made a sound of disbelief, and turned towards the trap door.

Grimmjow blocked his way.

"What the fuck Grimmjow! For god's sake! Now's not the time for having that talk!

Grimmjow wasn't backing down, "The fuck it isn't. I just need a word!"

Urahara who had been standing to the side held up his hands and urged in a calming voice, "Why don't you just listen to what he has to say? He just wants a minute."

It wasn't unusual for the scientist to same something like that. Ichigo had had multiple instances when the blonde man had been there to break the tension in a situation. He was the 'adult', after all – that's what they did.

But something about the tone the blond man used pricked Ichigo. It was like he was trying to remind Ichigo of something very important.

Ichigo glared in the scientist's direction, before nodding at Grimmjow to follow him to a safe few meters away from the others.

It was surprising how such a short distance could change the entire atmosphere. Maybe it was because of the thickset of trees that surrounded them, or may be it was the dark, but it suddenly felt like they had been cut off from the entire world. No sound from the group reached them, no sound expect for their own breathing. What little light they had had near the trap door seemed to have been denied entrance in their little island of darkness. They could barely see each other's outline in the dark, and something about that fact irritated Ichigo.

"Just say whatever it is, and get over with it," said Ichigo, his voice unintentionally loud to compensate the silent surrounding.

The teal haired man's face contorted in anger and in the next second Ichigo found himself pushed none-too-nicely to the ground and strangled under the weight of a giant beast, "You are one son-of-a-bitch, you know that? I wish I could just kill you right here and _get over with it_."

Not too surprised with threats Grimmjow dished out, Ichigo struggled in the other's grip, but in vain. He barely rose a few inches away from the grow, only to be pushed back under the strong hands of the man above him. Strangely enough, it felt like the taller man was much, much more powerful than how he was the same evening. His hold was not only strong, but the way he was gripping into Ichigo's skin actually hurt. And the look on Grimmjow's face was so mad that it seemed like he had lost his mind.

It was all too obvious that Ichigo had missed something, because Grimmjow had been fatally wounded only a few months ago; to be overpowered by him, when he was fully conscious, just by a grip was not something possible.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ichigo used his elbow to dig into Grimmjow's chest, but it didn't seem to have any effect, either.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with _me?_" spat the blue haired man, his voice going too high to be comfortable, "_I _should be the one asking you that. What is wrong with _you_, dammit? Why the fuck are you doing this? Why are you going to Las Noches?"

Ichigo froze in his struggle.

"What?" Confusion again. Grimmjow was getting more inexplicable by the minute. His actions didn't make sense, and his talk was even more perplexing.

"Why. Are. You. Going. To. Las Noches?"

"Well, I thought that had been obvious," said Ichigo, sarcastically, as he successfully landed a blow to the blue-haired man's ears, "when I did all but short of declare to the whole world that I was going to get back Orihime!"

He received a punch to his side, above his waist.

"Not that," hissed Grimmjow, "Not 'for what'? I'm asking 'why'? Why?"

Ichigo's hand flew to the strong hands that were now gipping his neck.

"It's the same thing!," he hissed.

"No. No. It's not. It's not the same." Grimmjow's voice was funny. It was the same, fitful voice, too loud that it was almost ear-splitting, but there was a funny lisp in there somewhere. "It's different. You are telling me the purpose. I'm asking you the reason. You are not going for her, right?"

"What the fucks are you on about? Did you hit your head or something? When did you get all tricky with words?" said Ichigo, as he renewed his struggle to get off. It was difficult to breathe. "Let me go!"

"Don't you see?" yelled Grimmjow, and pain bloomed on the side of Ichigo's face as he was punched with a blind fist, "It's fucking trap! It's not her! It's not that cunt they want! It's you!"

"Cut-cut it out, ugh, let me go." When the fingers didn't loosen, "I know. I know. I fucking know, alright? It's the damned will. They – no – _he wants _the company. He wants the whole _Seireitei _under his feet. Fuck. I don't care." gritted out Ichigo, still trying to get away from the taller man, "I will still go and get her."

He seriously was having trouble breathing. Grimmjow needed to loosen his grip.

"Fuck!" Was that a tear? Ichigo sure was seeing things, and the poor lighting did not help at all. He could almost swear there was some glistening wetness to the blue-haired man's eyes. Only experience told him otherwise.

"Why? Why is her?" Grimmjow's voice had gone all wrong; it wasn't loud and brash anymore, it was hoarse – all wrong to Ichigo's ears – unsure. "Why is it always her? What do you see in her? Is it because she's a girl? Is that why? Tell me why, dammit! Don't give me that responsibility shit. Don't you say it's the will. It's not. I know. Fuck. I know you wouldn't risk your skin if it's not someone important. You are not a saint, you are a fucking selfish prick. So, tell me why are you doing this? Why is it her? Why not me?"

Ichigo was only half-listening to the other's ramble. His eyes were fixed on those far away branches that hung atop him. If he squinted a little, he could almost see the moon. But, maybe not. Wasn't it forecasted to be a stormy night? Funny that, he could literally feel a storm brewing inside him.

"Of course, it's her," he whispered to no one in particular, "She's everything to me you are not."

156156156156156156156

Urahara had finally decided it was time to go and fetch the lovebirds from their untimely spat, when he heard the faint trudging noise of footsteps. His calculative mind immediately noticed the missing rhythm and he turned in the direction where the young orange haired man approached the opening.

"Where's he?" asked the scientist, feeling more than a little unease.

Ichigo shrugged, "He's over there. Unconscious"

"Kurosaki-kun!"

"What?" said Ichigo defensively, "He almost choked me to death. So I hit his head with a rock. I don't want to die tonight, before I rescue Orihime."

"So you killed him, instead?"

"I didn't kill him!" glared Ichigo, the thought the blue haired man dying unsettling him "He's just unconscious. He's not weak, okay? In fact, he seems stronger than before. Like, he just received a whole new level of power tonight, or something. Strange." He hesitated for a second, half turned towards Urahara, uncertain, his eyes wandering, looking everywhere but at the man before him. "Anyway, I should get going."

His hand flew to the handle of the trap door.

"You just gonna let him lie there."

His hand gripped on the metalling handle. He didn't look up.

"I have been thinking, you know. It's better this way. Let him stay away from this shit. If he goes back to Las Noches, who knows what would happen? His uncle won't be too happy with the nephew who betrayed him, would he? Naah, best keep him out of this. Take care of him, okay? Don't be too hard on him. He might need a bandage or something, and drug him, just in case he puts up a tantrum. And," A pause, "I will be going now."

Ichigo pulled the metal door open. There was a ladder made of steel on one side, but there wasn't much light. He stepped inside and started climbing down.

He could only see the upper half of the scientist when he looked up. The other man hadn't replied, but was looking at Ichigo with eyes that spoke louder. He could easily read the worry in them.

"In- in case, something happens tonight, just – just tell him that….."

Silence.

Urahara was waiting.

"Forget it. It's nothing."

The trap door closed above him and everything went dark.


	10. So this is how it ends, huh?

******Title:** Winning His Heart  
******Disclaimer:** I don't own bleach. I disclaim all rights. I don't own the characters, either. I'm merely borrowing them for my fan-fiction.  
******Fanfic Author:** ******xancrish**  
******Rating:** PG-13  
******Pairing:** Ichigo/Grimmjow  
******Genre:** AU, Slash, Romance  
******Warnings:** A little blood, possible dark themes, cheating.  
******Summary:** Kurosaki Ichigo is the young CEO of one of the leading conglomerates in Japan. He is smart, talented and spirited, leading a contented life and surrounded by love of his family and friends. Engaged at twenty-two, to the very much sought after doctor, Inoue Orihime, he was a man envied by many. So what happens when the seemingly clean sheet life of the young Kurosaki is ransacked by the appearance of a blue-haired foreigner, one Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?

* * *

There were a lot of screens, covering high and low of one of the room's walls. They were constantly running numbers and words that probably meant something important in some foreign language. Quite a few of them flashed frequently, showing images in a sequence, disappearing and then back again. All the images seemed random, and ignorable. There was this one picture of a common Ramen shop that kept repeating itself. And, there was another picture of what looked like a park, but one with a lot of closely placed trees. Neither place seemed particularly interesting.

Strange looking instruments and machine filled the room, each one looking uniquely shaped and sized, but all of them were of the same color: silver. If one didn't pay close attention to the shadows formed by these objects, they completely disappeared into the background. Even the walls were silver.

The air-conditioner in the room must have been broken, because the temperature inside the room was unbearably low.

Ichigo tightened his jacket against himself as he surveyed the room before him.

"Are you feeling cold, Ichigo-_chan_?", came a cheerful voice from behind Ichigo.

The young man jerked at the sudden intrusion.

"God, stop scarring me like that, old man!" he said, scowling fiercly, not even bothering to turn back to look at him. He had been waiting for the man, after all. "And, stop addressing me like that!"

"Ah, now, now, Ichigo-chan, why are you being so harsh?"

"I told you to quit -" Ichigo swiveled in his rolling chair, but stopped short when he found that there were not one, but two people who had entered the room.

One, of course, was his doctor, Urahara Kisuke, and the other was a short, grim looking girl, he had never met before.

"I thought this was a private meeting, old man," Ichigo abruptly stood up and gritted his teeth. "Why did you bring a stranger to our meeting?"

"Ichigo-chan -

"_Quit _calling me that!"

"Please calm down, will you? No need to be unpleasant," said the doctor, as polite as ever, "I thought it was a good idea for Ichigo-chan to talk to some one who's in a similar situation, Ichigo-chan. Don't you think that it will help you a little?"

Urahara turned his attention to the black haired girl and said, "Why don't you introduce yourself, my dear?"

"Stop it!" Ichigo all but screamed, "Stop it! How dare you pity me! How dare you look down on me! I don't need some stupid _girl _to talk to. How dare you bring her here! You think I'm weak? You think I need to talk about my _feelings_?"

The girl took a step back. Whether she was offended or not, was not apparent, but she definitely looked terrified. The boy before her was covered in bruises all over, one of his eyes blackened. But that was not what was scaring her. It was the way he was talked, the way his eyes shone with open hostility. The way in which each of his movements were jerking with suppressed anger.

Urahara stepped forward. He tried to place a hand on the angry teenager, only to have it swatted away.

"Don't touch me!" yelled Ichigo.

"Ichigo-kun, please calm down. Fine. I will send her away for now. It was my mistake not informing you earlier. But, please calm down."

The orange haired teened huffed and turned his back from the other two. When it didn't look like the teen was off to breaking his finest equipments around the room like he had done during their last meeting, the doctor turned his attention back on the girl.

Bowing low, he said, "I'm very sorry, Kuchiki-san. Tsukabishi-san will escort you back home."

The short girl left the room without so much as a protest.

Ichigo heaved himself into his chair and faced away from the other man.

"That wasn't very nice of you, Ichigo-kun."

"I don't care," came the blunt answer.

The older man sighed and got a seat himself. Turning the teen's chair to face him, he got a better look at the wounded face.

"Did you get into a fight again?"

"It's not a 'fight' old man," snapped the teen, scowling again, "And you know it. I had to go on a mission. It couldn't be helped."

"Ah."

"As if you didn't know."

"Well, like you said, it can't be helped." Urahara got up, asking, "Would you like to have something? Tea?"

"Yeah."

Pouring a dubious looking liquid in a cup, from one of the flasks in a far away counter, the doctor settled in on the table next to them. He brought a pad along with him and sat back in his chair, more comfortably this time.

"I would like to know what you did this week."

"I don't really understand why we have to do this, you know? This sessions – this, whatever _this_ is."

"Ichigo-kun, let's please get started."

"_Fine_, fine," scowled Ichigo, "Just remember, I wouldn't be here if my stupid _dad_ didn't force me to."

Urahara took a sip from his cup and waited patiently.

"I did just the usual things this week. I had a mission yesterday evening, but apart from that, nothing unusual. Just school, homework and home," said Ichigo, tapping his fingers on the table next to them, "Oh, yeah, I went out with Orihime Friday night, after she and my homeroom teacher made a huge scene."

"What scene?"

"Nothing serious. She just saw the bandage on my forehead and freaked out a little, and so did my girlfriend."

"I thought she wasn't your girlfriend. You said, she wasn't you girlfriend last time."

"Well, she -" hesitated the teen a little, taking his cup off of the table and taking a sip. "She's really lonely you know, and she's very -"

"Weak?" interrupted the doctor.

"Weak - what? Weak? Why would I think she's weak. She's not weak," said Ichigo, a frown forming on his face, "She's just needs somebody beside her. Someone to care for her."

"And you want to be that person, Ichigo-kun?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"No, no, Ichigo-kun," said the doctor, raising his hand in an appeasing manner, "I'm just asking you, if you want to be that for her."

"Well, it's not like I have a choice do I?"

The doctor didn't respond to that.

"What about your friend, Ichigo-kun?", said Urahara, after a while.

The teen looked at the other man sharply, eyes narrowing. "Which friend?"

"You know, the one you mentioned the other day. Someone you met very long time ago. Someone none of your other friends know about."

"I have no such friend."

It was not obvious to the doctor if his patient was lying or not. But, it didn't seem like he was willing to talk about this friend, whoever that was. Not that Urahara didn't know who it was. _Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez._ The heir apparent of Las Noches and someone Ichigo Kurosaki was better off without.

But that danger had already been taken care of. Urahara knew for a fact that it had been almost year since the two teenagers had last met. But that didn't tell him why his patient had to deny his friend's very existence. Was it anger, may be? Or was it something else?

Nothing much was said after that, and Ichigo left even before finishing his tea.

As soon as Urahara was sure that the teen had left the premises, the doctor called his employer.

"Hello, Kurosaki-san."

"Kisuke?"

"Yes, your son was here for his session."

"Anything new?"

"It's time for you to be finally relieved, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said in a cheerful voice, "I think I have finally found what the problem with your son is."

"You say 'problem', and yet you say I should be relieved." The CEO's guffawing laughter reached throught the phone. "I'm assuming its nothing to be worried about."

"I wouldn't say that," said the doctor, recalling the big clues young Ichigo had left him today, "But it is a better situation than we had hoped for."

"Oh," the voice over the line was more subdued now, "Go ahead, tell me what it is."

"He's projecting on to her," said, Urahara, "Orihime Inoue."

"What? I'm afraid I don't understand, Kisuke."

"I tried to get him to talk to Kuchiki Rukia, today. I'm sure you know of her situation."

"Yes."

"But that proved to be futile. He claimed that he isn't weak, or that he needs help. He threw a fit."

"Do I need to apologize to Kuchiki-san on his behalf?"

"That's not necessary, Kurosaki-san. I had already warned her about Ichigo-kun's condition. She was fully aware that something like that would happen."

"So you already knew my son was going to throw a fit? Why am I not surprised?"

"Ah!" said Urahara, smiling a little, "Well, it was to be expected, no? But, what's more curious is that, he 's not bluffing. About being strong. About not needing help. Our Ichigo-kun truly believes himself to be invincible."

"So he's alright then? He really doesn't need help?" Isshin's voice sounded a little relieved.

"I'm afraid that's not the case, Kurosaki-san," said the doctor, frowning, "What he has done is, he has completely blocked out his feelings. Especially his feelings of grief over Masaki's death. By doing so, he's slowing loosing all his other emotions. But where would all his emotions go? That's where Inoue-san comes into picture. He's projecting them onto Inoue-san. Whatever he is feeling, his mind unable to take the intensity of those negative emotions is projecting it onto his friend. He doesn't want to believe that he is going through the pain he is actually going through, and believes Inoue-san is the one who is lonely, needy and even weak. Which just reflects what his own psyche is feeling."

He remembered the way his young patient had been quick to deny that Orihime was weak. But he knew that his words had hit the target. He had noticed the uncalled for indignation and the quickening breathes. Signs of lying.

"So what do we do?", said Isshin, sighing.

"Well, the ideal thing to do now would be, to separate him from Inoue-san and make him slowly confront his fears."

"But?"

"But, I'm not sure if Ichigo-kun would be able to handle another blow like that."

The other man sighed again.

"You know, Kisuke, I was afraid it would be something like this. That poor kid, he just lost his mother and then he had to be sucked into this whole Shinigami business. Even the twins are better off. They aren't old enough and they don't understand the implications of Masaki's death. That kid though – I'm really worried about him, Kisuke. You should see the way he goes on rampage. It's like he turns into a monster. I can't even see my son in him anymore, Kisuke. He's becoming – he's becoming like one of them_. Hollows_. I'm not sure which is worse, him going through that kind of pain or him not feeling anything at all."

"And, lets not forget his friend, Kurosaki-kun," cutting of the father's worries.

"What about him? Wasn't he already taken care of? I thought that problem was over."

"I had thought too, Kurosaki-san," said Urahara gravely, "But even though the devil's spawn is not here anymore, he had already done enough damage before leaving."

"_What_? What do you mean, Kisuke?"

"Nothing imminent, but I think, we have misjudged their relationship a little, Kurosaki-kun."

"What do you mean, Kisuke? Tell me clearly!"

"It seems they were more than just friends."

* * *

The Las Noches was nothing like they had imagined. One would have though, being a headquarters for a multinational conglomerate, it would resemble Seireitei atleast in a little way. But being 'vast' is where the similarities stopped. Where Seireitei was colorful, ambivalent, and filled with different sized structures, each unique in its own way, surrounded by various plantation and scenery, Las Noches had uniform looking greyish structures, completely covered in white cement, without an ounce of greenery. It look _dead_ and plastic. Somehow, it befitted its name.

Of course, it was dark as hell, considering it was one in the night.

It had been almost three hours since they had started from the Park, and they had been in Las Noches for about half an hour, but the still had no clue where to find Orihime. The Shinigmi's couldn't exactly burst into any building. Though it was night, Las Noches would function non-stop no doubt, and they couldn't risk exposing themselves to the organization this early in the game.

"We need to split, Ichigo," Renji declared.

"Keep your voice down, you monkey!" hissed an indignant Ishida. "We are in enemy territorry!"

Before the red-haired man could raise his voice again.

"Renji, your voice," said Rukia, cuttingly.

Sending his friend a glare, the red-head spoke, "It's not like they don't know we are here already."

"What?" that got the attention of the whole group. Even Chad's who hadn't yet spoken a single word.

"Aizen already knows, probably."

"You _do _have some brains, after all, Abarai," said Ishida, his eyebrows forming a frown, "Then I think we need to rework the plan. We haven't met any enemies so far. It is too suspicious. I think they intend for us to split. So that it would be easier for them to get the better of us. Lets not split."

"No, Ishida," said Ichigo, "Renji is right. Even if they do intend for us to split, and in that way weaken us, we don't have any other choice. Time is running out, we can't delay this any longer."

"You are mad, Ichigo!" shouted Rukia, this time. "You know its a trap and you are so ready to go and fall into it. You can't go alone. You can't split with the rest of us."

"Who said he's going alone?" said Renji, putting a hand on Rukia's shoulder, "I'll be with him. You guys go together."

Ishida shook his head and called Ichigo 'mad', but they had to listen to what their leader had to say. And so they went seperate ways.

From there, the situation changed. Two minutes later, their first opponent appeared. He was a little crazy in his talks, a little too confident, but soon they found out that the man wasn't all that powerful. A short hand-to-hand combat and they could proceeded further. They still weren't sure were the main quarters was, or where Orihime could be, but the aim was to target Aizen first, and that meant, deeper into Las Noches.

The more they fought, the stronger their opponents became, and the more they suffered injuries. Ichigo was part ways from Renji at one point. The other one was a little too injured, meaning he had to rest a little, and time was essential. Half an hour later, Ichigo threatened one of the lesser ranked Hollows, pliant under his gun and got him to cough up the rough layout of the place. The man was not very sure about his CEO's whereabouts but he was informed about the main building. It took Ichigo, two more hours, lots of sweat, grime and blood to get there.

From the outside, Ichigo couldn't judge if there was any activity going on inside the building or not, at all. There was not a single window, it was a dome shaped structure in the middle of huge pillar-like buildings reminiscent of _Taj Mahal. _He wasn't sure why it was called the Tower.

He ran towards the building. It grew bigger and bigger as he neared it and the distance was not small, either. The doors to the lobby appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, when he neared a certain distance. After a while the orange-haired man could see a small shape, bright white against the dark of the night. Still and unmoving.

Ichigo wasn't sure if it was a person.

He ran some more. It was becoming clear, and yes, it _was _certainly a person.

Ichigo held his gun ready and pointed, but there was no cover for him to protect himself. What had been "pillars" around the main building was actually huge cylindrical buildings. The nearest one was half a mile away. And, of course, there were no other structures. No ups, and no downs. It was leveled, cemented land all around him, and just that.

So it was no surprise that before Ichigo could prepare himself, a bullet tore a hole through his chest.

He recognized his attacker of course.

Ulquirro Cifer.

"_So this how it ends, huh?" _

* * *

A/N:

My dear readers, it has been a long, long time! I always knew I'd come back to finish this fic, but I hadn't imagined it to take me this long! A lot has changed in these two years, especially in our world of Bleach. But since I can't just rush with the info and _update _it too much, I will try to maintain the flow and see where it goes.

You may have noted that I have not detailed the fights that took place in Hueco Mundo, and though you might consider that as being "lazy", covering the 'physical action' is not what this fanfic is about and hope you understand. :) And, of course, I got get the plot moving.

If you notice any change in my writing style, feel free to point out. :) It's been a while (That's an understatment).

It's unbeta'd for now and I don't have time to proof read right now. I will get back to it asap!

And don't forget to review!

Love, Xan.


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